


in the lost myth of true love

by noirheart (Flumes)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Austen inspired, Childhood Friends, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flumes/pseuds/noirheart
Summary: “You have my thanks as well,” says the other and Soonyoung’s heart skips as he swears he recognises the voice. “This is truly a splendid affair.”“Why, I am glad you think so. It is my pleasure to host such honourable heroes of our esteemed emperor.”Jeonghan shifts his weight as one of the ladies lowers her fan and Soonyoung’s stomach nearly drops right out of him. Before him, dignified in his well-cut bottle green naval coat decorated with his newly awarded medal, is none other than Lee Seokmin, his once childhood friend.Where Seokmin as a youth had been gangly and flighty, his face at once too large for his skinny frame, he now holds himself with the squared shoulders of a captain, his features appearing as if they have been carved from marble by a loving artist. His high cheekbones catch the shine of the grand chandelier that hangs over the dance floor, crystal sparkling across skin honey brown like his companion’s, and Soonyoung is almost doubled over by the sudden ache in his breast.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Seokmin | DK
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	in the lost myth of true love

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be the last shred of truth  
> In the lost myth of [true love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eCCtiK7KlSo)

“Did you hear? Have you heard?”

“I saw them arriving. My, they are so handsome, are they not?”

“Handsome and rich, too. Why, it is no wonder they have been talk of the town!”

Soonyoung pauses by the wall, listening into the gossip of a cluster of ladies by the staircase, their heads bowed together over the champagne flutes clutched to their bosoms, cheeks flushed pink with the drink and the heady atmosphere that always accompanies one of Jeonghan’s balls. He doesn’t feel too guilty about eavesdropping, too curious to shift back into the crowd in the main hall.

“I hear they both received the Medal of Honour from the prince himself for their victories in the war.”

“You think that’s news?” scoffs one of the women. “Wait until you hear just how much they’re worth.” She leans forward to whisper to her companions and Soonyoung strains his ear, attempting to pick up what follows the hushed giggles. His pulse races. New bachelors? Rich bachelors? Why, such news would be sure to spread quickly!

“I don’t believe eavesdropping is very becoming of a gentleman of repute.”

Soonyoung startles with a yelp, nearly crashing into the long limbs of his companion and distant cousin, Xu Minghao. Resplendent in his finely embroidered hanfu with his honey blond hair falling into eyes sparkling with mirth, he cuts a dashing figure amongst the other revellers. Even here, away from the crowds, Soonyoung can see Minghao drawing looks.

“What are you, Jihoon now? A little gossip never hurt anyone.”

Minghao rolls his eyes but his smile is fond. “Come. I am hungry but I do not want to disturb the refreshments on my own.”

Soonyoung loops an arm through Minghao’s and lets him lead them through into the dining room where men and women linger in their finest gowns of silk and taffeta, their finely pressed jackets and lace cravats, and in their flowing hanbok of many colours. A spread of delectable foods sprawls across a table that stretches across the far wall, servants carrying silver trays with flutes of bubbling champagne and rice wine. The doors have been thrown open to the balmy summer air, a dusky sky beyond rippled with pink and gold.

“Did you hear them?”

Minghao hums, eyes on one of the silver trays as he snatches two flutes from the waiter passing by. Handing one to Soonyoung, he says, “About Jeonghan’s guests? I suppose so.”

“You suppose so? Well? Don’t leave me in the lurch, my friend! Tell me everything you know.”

Minghao taps a finger against his chin and pretends to think, smirking when he sees Sooyoung squirm. “I think I shall need some sustenance before I can dredge up the memory.”

“ _Minghao._ ”

“You should ask your good friend Seungkwan. You know he is always first with the city gossip.”

“Minghao, it is impolite to withhold vital information,” he whines as he trails after his lean form. Minghao picks up a truffle, examines it with a dubious expression, gives it a sniff, and then takes the most delicate bite Soonyoung has ever seen.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, grabs a dumpling and stuffs it into his mouth. When Minghao turns to see him chewing he grimaces and then sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. Even his characteristic stubbornness cannot survive Soonyoung when he is after something.

“I do not know as much as you think I do,” he says. “But if you must know then Jeonghan told me that they have both returned from the navy to take up residence in the city. They are both incredibly wealthy and handsome and whichever favourable adjective suits your fancy. Apparently one of them has bought the old Pledis residence and the other is staying with his cousin during the summer period before he retires to his new estate in the country.”

“You mean, that huge manor house out by the city gardens? The one with like a hundred bedrooms and acres of ground?” Soonyoung whistles. “It is no wonder they are talk of the town. Why, they are sure to be the most sought after dance partners at this ball.”

“Well, now.” Minghao arches his brow. “I think that is quite an assertion.”

“Come now, you must be at least a little curious. I am eager to see what these fellows look like.”

“It looks like you will not need to wait long.” Minghao nods. “Take a look.”

Spinning around, Soonyoung sees the crowd gather around two figures, though he is unable to get a good look at their faces with so many others drawing in close in the hopes of catching them in conversation. The same gaggle of ladies that he saw earlier hide their giggles behind their fans, setting their coiled hair to flutter around their faces. Through the throng he glimpses snatches of the vibrant green of the royal emperor’s navy and it encourages him to drift forward, welcoming the crowd where Minghao bucks against it.

“Come on,” he says to his companion. “I know you are as curious as I.”

“I have given you no indication of such,” complains Minghao, but he allows Soonyoung to latch onto his arm and propel him forward into the congregation upon the dance floor.

In amongst so many faces Soonyoung glimpses a familiar set of fine-boned features and waves to him through the crowd. “Jeonghan,” he calls, “Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan himself does not appear to hear him but Joshua does, nodding to Soonyoung with a small smile. Murmuring in Jeonghan’s ear, the man in question turns, his delicate blond plait flying over his shoulder. His eyes alight at seeing the pair of them, ushering them forward through the throng. He is dressed in a very fine coat of duck egg blue embroidered in the most exquisite of golds to accentuate his flaxen hair, his waistcoat and breeches a very fine ivory like the glow of his skin.

“Soonyoung!” Jeonghan exclaims, gaze heavy-lidded as if he is already in his cups. “You are looking very fine. And our handsome Minghao. Come, come.” He lifts their empty glasses and as if by magic a servant appears with a silver tray. In an instant fresh glasses are pressed into their hands.

“You have come to see the spectacle, I suppose,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You must tell me all about it,” says Soonyoung. It is an itch within him to know. He can never bear to not be in the know of ton gossip. “Who are these new gentlemen? How did you come to make their acquaintance?”

“Why do I not introduce you myself?”

Before Soonyoung can say anything, Jeonghan steps forward and the crowd parts for him like he is the emperor himself. With a confidence Soonyoung could only dream of he walks right up to the two navy men and begins to engage them in conversation, leaving Soonyoung to scramble to catch up in the most dignified manner that he can manage. He can only crane his neck over Jeonghan’s shoulder as he picks up their conversation, some of the other guests clearing the way out of respect for their host.

“– are really honoured to have been invited to such a prestigious ball,” says one of the men. Soonyoung glimpses him; a tall, handsome man with dark hair and golden brown skin from a life at sea. It is no wonder he has the young ladies and gentlemen swooning. Rich and good-looking, all at once! “You must tell us the places in town we have to visit in order to integrate back into society. My cousin and I plan to visit the shrine tomorrow to make our prayers but we have not had the chance to call upon old friends yet.”

“You have my thanks as well,” says the other and Soonyoung’s heart skips as he swears he recognises the voice. “This is truly a splendid affair.”

“Why, I am glad you think so. It is my pleasure to host such honourable heroes of our esteemed emperor.”

Jeonghan shifts his weight as one of the ladies lowers her fan and Soonyoung’s stomach nearly drops right out of him. Before him, dignified in his well-cut bottle green naval coat decorated with his newly awarded medal, is none other than Lee Seokmin, his once childhood friend.

Where Seokmin as a youth had been gangly and flighty, his face at once too large for his skinny frame, he now holds himself with the squared shoulders of a captain, his features appearing as if they have been carved from marble by a loving artist. His high cheekbones catch the shine of the grand chandelier that hangs over the dance floor, crystal sparkling across skin honey brown like his companion’s, and Soonyoung is almost doubled over by the sudden ache in his breast. It is both Seokmin and it is not. The boy he once knew has been transformed into a fine young man and it strikes something in him he cannot name; an old hurt.

_Look at these brave men and women who fight for their country, Soonyoung. What have you ever done that’s worthwhile?_

So captured is he by sun-soaked memories of running through the fields with sticky fingers from raspberry picking that he almost misses the ensuing conversation. Jeonghan steals a glance at him and he only manages a smile because it is his body’s instinct. It’s only then that he realises the music has started again; a jaunty tune for one of his favourite reels. It shows how shaken he is, that he doesn’t immediately spin onto the dance floor.

“Since you are talk of the town, tell me, gentleman.” Jeonghan leans in, a conspirational smile dancing across his mouth. “Do you dance?”

“Ah,” says Seokmin, trilling a laugh. “I am afraid I shall have to beg your pardon. A life at sea does not teach one the necessary steps.”

“Oh, a pitiful shame,” says Jeonghan. “Our Soonyoung here is the most masterful dancer. He must be the most desired companion at any festivity, isn’t that right?” He moves aside a step, smile devious as he turns to a red-faced, gaping Soonyoung. “I am quite sure if anyone could teach you to dance it would be this man here.”

Soonyoung forces himself to calm his breathing and risks looking up only to lock eyes with a startled Seokmin. Perhaps the man is not as much a stranger as he had thought, his expression open in shock, his eyes round and his lips parted as he stares back at Soonyoung. Stomach twisting itself into knots, Soonyoung braves a small smile and a gentle bow of his head.

“It has been some time,” he says, proud of how his voice does not tremble. “Although back then I did not know you as captain.”

“Soonyoung,” breathes Seokmin, like he can scarcely believe it. “Kwon Soonyoung?”

“I am not so unchanged, am I? Mama always says that I look the same as I always did.”

“No – no, you are quite unchanged indeed,” confesses Seokmin.

“And yet you are very much a man now,” comes from his mouth unbidden. He is suddenly, painfully aware of the curious looks cast by Jeonghan and Seokmin’s companion, twitching in place. “I mean, ha, it is good to see you again, my friend. I see that the navy has treated you well.”

“How auspicious,” says Jeonghan, “that the pair of you are already acquainted.”

“You must introduce me to your friend, Seokmin,” says the other naval captain, dark eyes flickering over him with an officer’s assessment. Soonyoung holds his shoulders high, wondering what he sees. If he sees the child his mother always berates him for being.

_You are still just a child, Soonyoung. When will you grow up and take responsibility? Find a suitable wife or husband to settle down with?_

“Ah!” says Seokmin, still as flustered as he always was. “May I introduce my cousin, Captain Kim Mingyu, of His Imperial Majesty’s Naval Forces? Mingyu, this is my old friend, Kwon Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung’s cheeks warm at the use of ‘friend’. Even if he bears no titles, there is something earned in such an epithet, he thinks. So he bows and smiles. “Captain,” he says.

Mingyu’s own smile only makes him more handsome, spreading across a genial face. He glances at Seokmin, who still appears to be unsteady. Soonyoung had read once, that sailors take a while to find their land legs after so long at sea. “I must say, from what I have seen so far it is very much a pleasure to have returned to the city. There is much to be enjoyed about society life, it would seem.”

For some reason this makes Seokmin flush, his gaze skimming over Soonyoung like water splitting over rock. Mingyu laughs, nudging his cousin, and Soonyoung wonders about the man he once knew. Wonders how life at sea has changed him. Wonders whether he still likes raspberries picked straight from the bush, overripe and sour on the tongue.

“You are correct,” says Jeonghan, holding his flute aloft. “There is nothing quite like the liveliness of the city, I find. As nice as the countryside can be in the summer time I would much rather be amongst the company of the ton.”

“You must all be generous with Seokmin and I,” Mingyu replies. “It is much different from that of the customs of a ship.”

Jeonghan laughs, the crowd around him following his cue. “I am sure that is a good thing, my friend. Now, let us dance. It would be a shame to waste such a lively tune, would it not?”

As the clusters disperse onto the dance floor, Soonyoung hovers around the edge, wanting to edge his way up to Seokmin but hesitant to shove his way past the gaggle of his admirers. Were it anyone else Soonyoung would simply ask them to dance, but Seokmin does not appear to enjoy dancing – a thought he cannot begin to fathom – so he does not know how else to engage him without appearing rude. And what if Seokmin does not wish to speak to him? He is a man of high standing now. A decorated captain, wealthy, and a desirable bachelor. Surely he has no interest for some old acquaintance when there are pretty young ladies batting their eyelashes at him.

He is allowed a few more moments of moping before a young lady by the name of Yerin asks him to dance and then his concerns are washed away by the joy of spinning her around and skipping on his feet. To his delight she’s full of energy, easily able to keep up with him, and most of the evening passes in a delightful blur of happy music and dance.

It is only as the night eventually comes to a close that he remembers, catching another glance at a bottle green coat and rich chestnut brown hair. His stomach twists, but whether it’s a good or bad feeling he cannot yet tell.

*

“What a pleasant morning for a turn about the park, do you not think so?”

Soonyoung raises his face to sky, bathing in the warm sunshine beaming from a near cloudless sky. The neatly tamed hedges line the path on either side, budding with pretty white blooms that carry a fragrant aroma on the balmy breeze. It’s still cool enough to feel pleasant when walking, but not so much so that it feels chilly. Spring is the best time of year, Soonyoung thinks, when the world begins to awaken from its slumber beneath the frigid layer of snow and ice that comes with winter. The birds chirp, flitting from tree to tree, and he feels the city breathe a sigh of relief that the season has turned.

“Minghao?”

Minghao simply nods. In his dark grey jacket and waistcoat, he is hardly dressed for spring, but Minghao is always committed to his own fashion. He still casts an elegant figure, his long legs oft the source of Soonyoung’s envy.

“Ah, how I have missed the sunshine. It feels like it was a long winter this year.”

“I do not think it was any more so than any other winter.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Well, I say so. I am very much pleased to find that the weather has turned.”

“You are simply pleased about the parties at this time of year.”

Soonyoung turns to him but Minghao, as serious an air as he prefers to affect, cannot fully hide his smile. “I know you enjoy the dancing. You certainly enjoy the praise that your talent affords you.”

“Mm.”

High of spirits, Soonyoung is so preoccupied with the beauty of the gardens that he almost doesn’t notice them until they are face to face and he straightens immediately, hoping he does not look too slovenly in his excitement. To his surprise Wonwoo is taking a turn outside, when his dear friend is usually so reluctant to step beyond the bounds of his home. Even more shocking is his choice of companion; none other than the talk of the town, Captain Mingyu himself. Soonyoung struggles not to gape at the pair of them, his usual ease around Wonwoo restrained by his unfamiliarity with the handsome young captain.

“Wonwoo,” he says, with a polite nod. “Do my eyes deceive me or are you really outside?”

Wonwoo’s expression twists between a smile and a grimace as he nods in return. “Soonyoung. Minghao. I cannot say I am surprised to see you out on so pleasant a morning.”

Soonyoung tries not to peer too openly at Captain Mingyu. He is undoubtedly as handsome as they say he is, skin rich and tanned with a blinding white smile that reaches his dark eyes. Not known for being shy, he dips his head. “Captain,” he says. “We met at Jeonghan’s ball a fortnight past, if you remember.”

“Indeed,” says Mingyu, glancing between he and Minghao. “I remember you both to be quite exquisite dancers. It is a shame that a life at sea does not teach one such fine skills.”

Oh, he is a charmer too. Now Soonyoung is even curiouser at the pair of them, for Mingyu is new in town, and a bachelor at that. To be out cavorting with a married man like Wonwoo, who is so often labelled unsociable in comparison to his charming husband Junhui, well, it could be called a scandal! Soonyoung knows his sensible friend is not the type for unseemly displays, but even so, he cannot help but wonder at the circumstances which brought them together.

“Say, Wonwoo, where is Junhui today?”

Soonyoung steals a glance at Minghao, unable to mask his surprise. Minghao has never been one to hold back, a fact which has made him a topic of discussion amongst the ton, but his considerable wealth and links to foreign royalty has always staid their tongues from too much wagging. Now he cocks his head at Wonwoo, brows raised in challenge. Minghao and Junhui share a birth nation across the sea, and as such regard themselves as something like brothers.

Wonwoo does not appear concerned at the implication, though his mouth does twitch as if resisting a smile. “Jun has been struck by a sudden chill. I was just on my way to fetch the doctor when I ran into our mutual acquaintance, Captain Mingyu. I was surprised to see him, for I had not realised he had returned from his duties, and he offered to accompany me to fetch the doctor. Now he has been so kind as to distract me by forcing me out for some air, though I cannot imagine my company has been pleasant.”

“Nonsense,” says Mingyu, clapping him on the shoulder. Soonyoung cannot help but notice his very fine ensemble, a rich burgundy trimmed with black. “Your fretting was only going to make poor Junhui’s condition worse. Doctor Seokjin is the finest in town. Your husband will be returned to full health very shortly, I am assured.”

“I am very sorry to hear of it!” exclaims Soonyoung, who nudges a tense Minghao. “Why, we must visit him as soon as he is recovered.”

Wonwoo nods, whatever tension having erupted between he and Minghao easing. “I am sure he would appreciate that very much.”

Mingyu glances between them. “Actually, now that I have you both here I hope I might impose on you a little. In an effort to bring myself back into society I was planning to host a small party in the week to come. My estate has some very fine grounds so we will be able to make good use of this amiable weather. Say, gentlemen, would you be amenable? I know my cousin is eager to be reacquainted with you, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung blinks, a fluttering in his stomach at the thought of Seokmin in his resplendent garb from Jeonghan’s ball. He is at once both yearning and hesitant, in a muddle as to how to reply. Mercifully Minghao accepts with a gracious bow, to which Mingyu bows in return, the pair not breaking gazes from one another for a long moment. Soonyoung’s gaze catches on Wonwoo, who watches the scene with some apparent amusement.

“Then it is settled,” says Mingyu. “It is not to be until a week from now. Junhui should surely have recovered by then, so I will expect to see you both there as well.”

Wonwoo’s mouth parts, affronted. Pale from a lack of sunlight, dressed in drab colours like he has been ripped from one of Jihoon’s beloved gothic novels, Wonwoo is not known for often engaging with the ton. That Mingyu has managed to coerce him into it only earns the man Soonyoung’s favour. He has always thought his friend would be served well by attendance at more parties, where he could make good use of his considerable intellect and delightfully dry wit.

The two pairs part ways on such a delightful promise, Soonyoung skipping ahead as he imagines the week to come. He cannot explain why, but he is particularly excited for this event, even more so than he is for any other event in his calendar. It must be the novelty of it, he thinks. Why, just wait until Seungkwan finds out he has been invited to dine with none other than the good captain himself. He will surely turn himself green with envy!

*

“It is not like you to overthink your fashion.”

Soonyoung catches Minghao’s lean form in the reflection of his vanity, a shirt clutched in either hand as he purses through which is better suiting of his skin tone. “I cannot decide which is more in line with current fashions. Say, you are fashion conscious, Minghao. Which should I wear?”

Minghao saunters into the room, inspecting his choices as well as the other garments strung over his bed. “I think you should wear this suit here. Pair it with the neutral shirt.”

“But that one is so bold,” says Soonyoung, fingers running over the floral design across a white suit jacket. Indeed it is perfect for spring – he couldn’t resist when he saw it in the lovely boutique he often frequents – but he worries it will set tongues to wagging if the stiffer members of the elite decide it is too much.

“A bold outfit for a bold man,” says Minghao. “You should not doubt yourself, Soonyoung.”

“It is not that I doubt myself at all. It is more that, _hm_. Well, I do not really know this Mingyu fellow, so I do not wish to be too presumptuous before we are truly acquaintances.”

Minghao smiles that small smile of his, languid as he leans against the vanity, draped in a very fine suit of a shimmering gold with a delicate lace cravat at his throat, his honey coloured hair styled back with a black ribbon. Soonyoung envies his friend his grace, but it is not a resentful kind of feeling, for he possesses no resentment at all within his heart. Rather it is an avid kind of admiration to call such a man his dear friend. He wonders, that Minghao has not yet been married. He must have so very many suitors but he never seems to take any interest at all.

“I will send for the servant. We best hurry, the carriage has already been prepared.”

“Of course.”

In their usual fashion Soonyoung fills the journey with chatter while Minghao sits back and listens, occasionally nodding, or interjecting the odd comment. The carriage trundles through the city streets, carrying them out to the suburban part of town where the lavish townhouses proudly splay their grand designs, neatly tended gardens and colourful rosebushes causing him to gasp and point. As much as the manors to be found out in the country are something marvellous to witness, Soonyoung has always preferred life in the city, where it feels like things are constantly in motion, something always happening around every corner.

The carriage pulls into gated grounds, gravel roads leading past a spring green lawn with neatly trimmed trees, up to a handsome and considerably large house in the neoclassical style, painted in the softest coral and ivory. It is a very fine place to be so squarely within the city, that he finds himself a little impressed as he steps down from the carriage. Smartly dressed servants greet them on the steps leading up to the door, Soonyoung only bowing when Minghao jabs him in the back, too busy gaping at the building.

“My, Minghao, this Mingyu must be very rich indeed, wouldn’t you say?”

“He is a member of a very old and much esteemed family,” says Minghao, "and a decorated naval captain besides. I dare say his wealth is excessive.”

“Excessive?” he says, gazing around the rich marble interior. Everything gleams, positively sparkling in the sunlight filtering in through the large bay windows. “Oh, not at all! Just imagine calling a place as fine as this home.”

“It is very fine,” Minghao concedes, if a little begrudgingly.

“Soonyoung? Minghao?” Mingyu himself appears at the arched doorway, illuminated in warm beams of sunlight so that he almost resembles one of the angels in the frescos of the grand library. “I am so pleased you could make it. Come, come with me. It is such a pleasant afternoon that we have already migrated to the gardens.”

The many doors to the hall have been thrust open, inviting Soonyoung out into a large garden space with a long table and chairs dotted around it. Guests mill out on the steps leading down, some clustered on the neat lawn of fresh green grass. The birds sing as they flit from tree to tree, a butterfly landing on a bright pink bloom from the hedges that run along the perimeter of the garden. Once again Soonyoung is impressed. If this is Mingyu’s townhouse he desperately wishes to see his country home, for it must be at least five times as lavish as this one.

“Thank you for inviting us,” says Soonyoung, remembering his manners like his mother would want. “It truly is splendid.”

“I am pleased you think so.” Mingyu takes the steps, drawing looks as he goes. “You are already acquainted with Jeon Wonwoo, I believe?”

Soonyoung is surprised that Wonwoo has actually turned up, the man grimacing at him as he gestures with his glass. He accounts it to the man by his side, still looking peaky but otherwise very refined in a handsome waistcoat of a deep indigo, his jacket draped over his arm in the warm sunshine of the afternoon. Soonyoung bounds over.

“Junhui!” he exclaims. “You are recovered from your ailment, I assume?”

Junhui smiles and bobs his head. “I am, thank you. It is good to see you both.”

Minghao moves to stand at his other side, the pair exchanging a few words in their native tongue, a language of which Soonyoung only knows fragments. No matter how much he has tried to sit and study it, he could never quite form a mastery of the tones, his tongue tripping over the sounds. As it is, he enjoys the musicality of their language, pleased when he sees that Mingyu appears to take no offence by what could be perceived as a slight to speak in a foreign tongue amongst company.

“Poor Wonwoo was so concerned. You must be relieved that he has made such a speedy recovery.”

Wonwoo hunches his shoulders and takes a long drag from his glass, cheeks flushing. He is a man of few words, but when he speaks he chooses them wisely, and he is loathe to display his emotions so openly. That Mingyu is able to read him is both a burden for him and a curiosity for Soonyoung.

“You must be well acquainted,” he says. “Not everybody is able to read Wonwoo so well.”

To Wonwoo’s obvious chagrin Mingyu only nods and smiles. “Indeed our history is quite extensive. We have known each other since were but children, have we not? Our mothers were good friends and so we spent many summers together before my father recommended me to the navy when I turned eighteen.”

Wonwoo nods. “I was married not long after that.”

“That’s true. I was sorry to miss your wedding but I am pleased that it turned out so well for you, my friend.”

It’s as Soonyoung lets his eye wander that he sees him. He misses part of the conversation, attention drawn by Seokmin walking leisurely from the other end of the garden with a handsome man Soonyoung has never seen before. They are both chatting amiably, posture loose and comfortable, and he wonders at how Seokmin has already made so many acquaintances in his short return to society when the boy he remembers was so shy and receding.

“– speaking of, there comes Seokmin now.” Mingyu’s voice cuts through his haze. “Seokmin,” he calls.

Seokmin turns, sunlight rippling across his cheekbones. Today he has removed his jacket, a cream waistcoat over his white linen shirt lighting up with the brightness of the afternoon. The tailoring fits his lean frame perfectly, drawing looks from across the garden. The smile spreads across his face, turning his eyes to crescents as he waves to Mingyu and jogs over to join their group.

“It is a splendid day, Mingyu,” he says. “I swear I’ve eaten so many of those cucumber sandwiches that I am fit to burst.” He seems to notice his audience, cheeks flushing as he greets Wonwoo first with a bow, and then Soonyoung.

“Hello, Seokmin,” he says, unable to fight his smile. “You are looking well, my friend.”

Seokmin takes a moment to react, slowly melting until he’s moving freely again. “And you. It is good to see you again, Soonyoung.”

For perhaps the first time, Soonyoung cannot think of any words. He simply holds Seokmin’s gaze, his smile never fading as if it has been powered by the man’s own natural radiance. Soonyoung is glad that, for all Seokmin wears the face of a man now, his good nature has remained unchanged.

Mingyu coughs and Soonyoung turns to see that he and Wonwoo are smiling. “Say, Seokmin, why don’t you show Soonyoung the gardens? I met him in the park last week so I know he is partial to walking, aren’t you, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung blinks. “Hm. Oh, yes. I do enjoy walking.”

His heart quickens when Seokmin crooks his elbow, creating a space for Soonyoung to take his arm. Before he knows it they are off, walking side by side away from the clusters of people by the tables. It is a very strange thing he thinks, to be so familiar and yet so distant to someone at the same time. He feels like he should be comfortable around a man he grew up playing with but somehow he is stiffer than normal, attempting to summon suitable conversation when he has never worried about such before. Perhaps it is because he cannot gauge Seokmin as he is now, years after he went to sea.

“How does it feel to come home?” he says. “Do you miss the sea? I have always wondered what it might be like to travel but I do not think I would have made a very good sailor. Is it difficult, being on a ship?”

To his relief Seokmin does not look perturbed by his flurry of questions, merely laughing. “Hm, it is very strange. I find I am not quite settled into it yet. It may take a while. It is the space, most of all!” He waves to the house. “This house has so many rooms and all of them so much space I can scarcely believe it. It is very cramped on a ship. I do not even know how Mingyu is supposed to furnish it.”

“That is part of the fun, is it not? All that space and you can do whatever you want to do with it! Why, you both must go out and look for furniture at once.”

Seokmin’s eyes are like half-moons when he smiles. “That is a very nice way to look at it. I suppose I shall have to make an attempt at what is fashionable but I do not know that I am very knowledgeable about the fashions these days.”

“Nonsense,” he says, shaking his head. “Ignore what is fashionable and choose something that stirs your heart. You must cultivate a space that makes you feel at ease.”

“Oh, like feng shui, you mean? I must confess, I know even less about that.”

Sooyoung pats his arm on instinct and then stills, glancing around and breathing a sigh of relief to see they are too far away from prying eyes to pick out details, walking the paths through the hedgerows towards the vine-covered arch that leads to the pond. It is probably already inappropriate for the two of them to be so far from the crowd without a chaperone, never mind for him to be touching an unmarried man in such a way.

“Ha,” he chokes out. “Just pick out things you like.”

If Seokmin has picked up on his awkwardness he does not say, only nodding. “That is sage advice, thank you.”

They lapse into momentary silence as they pass through the trellis, sunlight dappling them through the wooden lattice, the fresh aroma of flowers refreshing on the springtime breeze. But Soonyoung cannot exist in silence for long without needing to fill it, clearing his throat as he brims with questions for his old friend turned stranger.

“Will you be staying –”

“Are you going to –”

They both cut off, staring back at one another with wide eyes. Then suddenly they both erupt into laughter, doubling over when their reactions only make them laugh even harder. Soonyoung clutches his stomach, wheezing as tears prick on the corners of his eyes. It’s not polite to talk over someone but Seokmin doesn’t care. If anything that’s what makes it even funnier, that here, in this secret corner of the garden, they are free to be as silly as they like and receive no rebuke for it.

“Sorry, Soonyoung, you were going to say?”

But Soonyoung’s gaze is diverted by a ripple of colour through sunlit water and he runs over to the pond. “Oh, look. How charming. I love to watch the fish.” He kneels across the bench, leaning over it to get a closer look at the red and white koi darting through the lilypads, water trickling down into the pond from larger rocks behind it. A frog leaps from one pad to another, the pad quivering, droplets of water rippling across the surface of the water.

When he turns back Seokmin shines gold in the low sun behind him, standing back just to watch. Soonyoung does not know what to call the flurry of feeling in his gut, smile turning shy. “I would love to have a pond like this. I think I would spend all my time out in the garden watching the fish. When I am not dancing, of course. Say, do you really not like dancing, Seokmin?”

“Ah,” says Seokmin, wincing. “I like to watch others dancing. I think it is a very worthwhile skill but it is unfortunately not one I possess.”

“Oh. I could teach you. I have taught many a lady and gentleman to dance.”

“No, really.” Seokmin raises his palms, eyes wide. “That is quite alright. I fear I am much too clumsy to be an apt pupil.”

“Nonsense,” he says.

They spend some more time sitting by the pond with the gentle trickle of water behind them, mere inches between their shoulders as Seokmin regales him with tales of his time at sea, and his struggles with settling back into civil life. Soonyoung listens with rapt attention as the light turns rosy, washing the gardens in soft pink light the same shade as falling petals from the cherry blossom trees, and only occasionally interjects with questions or stories of his own. By the time they realise how long has passed, he feels like they have never been separated. To his delight Seokmin is still as open and amiable as the boy he once knew, if only more handsome now that he has grown into his features, a confidence squaring his shoulders that was never there before.

“My,” says Seokmin, jerking to his feet. “It has grown late and here I have kept you, boring you with my tales.”

“Not at all,” he says, rising reluctantly.

Arm in arm they walk back towards the party, red and gold lanterns strung around the gardens providing sources of warm light against the growing shadow of the townhouse. If Soonyoung walks slower than normal Seokmin does not comment on it. Soonyoung thinks he is probably too much a gentleman, and Soonyoung himself too much a rogue that he is willing to take advantage. But it’s nice – refreshing – to spend time with a man who is less concerned with the countless rules imposed by society than with good, honest conversation. Seokmin does not seem to mind his babbling, nor his childish enthusiasm for the dragonflies that flit from bud to bud, green shifting to blue with the light.

Given how long they have been away he expects Minghao to comment on his disappearance but he is surprised to find the man locked in deep conversation with none other than the host himself, the two standing close together beneath one of the red lanterns. Never has he seen Minghao so engaged at a party, especially not with a man who is a relative stranger.

“– the beauty is in the craft. It takes time to layer the paint in such a way as to tell a story with texture.”

“I won’t deny that there is something to be said for his method but it pales in comparison to the works of Namjoon. His mastery over light and shadow is breathtaking.” Mingyu gestures wildly as he talks, sloshing some of the wine is his glass over the grass. His eyes are slightly glassy, as if he’s had plenty to drink. “I must invite you to my estate to see my collection. I am quite sure it would change your mind.”

Minghao wrinkles his nose. “I would not be so sure of that. But, yes, I will take you up on your offer if you insist. There are so few true connoisseurs of the arts these days.”

“Indeed,” agrees Mingyu, raising his glass. He looks like he is going to say more but his eye flickers to them and he turns.

“What do you say, Seokmin? Shall we return to the country after the cherry blossom season? You are invited to accompany Minghao too, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung raises his brows, looking between the pair. His eagerness to see Mingyu’s estate for himself is only offset by his curiosity at his often churlish friend having scored an invite to view the manor of one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Realising he has three pairs of expectant eyes upon him, he blinks.

“Oh, I would be most honoured,” he says. “I have heard it is quite magnificent.”

Mingyu shrugs. “It has its uses, I suppose.”

As they are speaking the handsome man that was taking a turn in the garden earlier with Seokmin pulls him aside, leaving Soonyoung alone with Mingyu and Minghao. Mingyu takes another long pull of his glass, lips curling. “He is quite taken with the young Jung heir, I think. Poor Seokmin is unaccustomed to having attention upon him in this way.”

Something in Soonyoung’s stomach curdles as he follows Mingyu’s gaze, looking upon the man with a hand on Seokmin’s elbow, Seokmin grinning wide at whatever he says as he leans in close. It is the implication, he tells himself, that these suitors do not appreciate Seokmin for his true self, but merely for the fact that he now has the wealth and status to make him a desirable match. They do not see how kind he is, nor how his smile lights up a room, nor his good sense of humour in some fanciful joke that most would find bawdy.

“He certainly has a lot of the young ladies and gentlemen glancing his way,” says Minghao with an air of judgement. “A pretty face will always turn heads.”

“And you would know nothing of that, would you?”

Minghao narrows his eyes at Mingyu and Soonyoung wonders when they found the time to become this close. It took Soonyoung months of grinding Minghao down before he finally accepted his friendship and here is Mingyu, a mere fortnight into acquaintanceship, and he has already earned the ability to tease his dear cousin. Soonyoung isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol he has consumed but he’s feeling like the ground beneath his feet is unsteady, like things are shifting under him and he cannot find his place.

“To be a distinguished gentleman one must have more than just a pretty face. More than good birth, a man must be skilled in rhetoric and letters, be able to play at least one instrument, acquainted with both the arts and the sciences, and have an understanding of the nation’s history and politics. He must be of good character, interested in more than simply furthering himself for the sake of standing. Such a thing will never produce a truly good match.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows are at his hairline. “My, I do wonder at you knowing any distinguished gentlemen if those are your standards.”

Their conversation fades into the background as Soonyoung watches Seokmin walk off with his companion, unable to tear his eyes away from the pair of them. They certainly cut striking figures beneath the lanterns, tall and regal and imposing. His hands curl into fists. Is it true, that the man is courting Seokmin? He does not wish to see his friend get hurt. It must be the reason for the unease knotting up his stomach.

“Soonyoung?”

“Huh?”

“Will you be attending the spring blossom festival?” says Mingyu, eyeing him curiously.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, we’re going to that, aren’t we?” Soonyoung looks to Minghao who has one fine brow arched in that way of his when he has questions.

“Yes, I do believe so.”

*

“Remind me why I am here with you,” grouses Wonwoo.

“I am in need of a new hanbok for the spring blossom festival. You know what a big event this is. Why, it is the sign that the new season has truly arrived! I cannot spend a new season with my old hanbok, can I?” It would certainly not be abided by the high society attendees. Jeonghan would despair of him and he would never hear the end of it.

“Does it really matter?”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes at his friend. “I already know that Junhui has purchased you a fetching new one for the season. Besides, it is never a bad idea to treat your spouse. Poor Junhui has only just recovered from his affliction, so I am sure he is looking forward to this even more than normal this year.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him as they enter one of Soonyoung’s favourite tailors, a kind old lady smiling when she sees him. Soonyoung waves back, taking Wonwoo’s hand to lead him through the samples of fabrics, smooth soft silks and plush velvets and pastel linens. There isn’t a lot of room to move, the pair of them shuffling between the scores and scores of fabrics, and Wonwoo knocks into a model, only just managing to capture it before it can crash to the floor. He waves to the tailor in apology.

“Tell me why everyone must use my husband as an instrument against me?”

“Because you love him,” Soonyoung says as he examines a midnight blue fabric, lightly patterned when it hits the light just so, “and he is far more sensible than you.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Junhui? Hardly. He is even more fanciful than you are.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it is not more sensible to be fanciful.” He holds up a sky blue square next to a soft petal pink, picturing how they would look against his skin tone. Pastels are very fashionable this season. “After all, there is already enough darkness in this world, is there not?”

“There you go again sounding like him. I swear, the pair of you are as bad as one another.”

“I shall take that for the compliment that it is.”

Wonwoo huffs and groans like the miserable grouch that he is but Soonyoung catches him examining fabrics before he motions to the tailor to try some of the garments that have caught his eye and he smiles to himself. No doubt he will buy something for Junhui, if only because the poor man has been ill so recently. Of course, if Soonyoung is to be competing with such a handsome pair he will have to have the finest of garments. It is, after all, the beginning of a new season and he is of a marriageable age. It is strange for him to think it, that he might meet someone who captures his attention so fully that he wishes to spend the rest of his life with them. Oh, to be like a character in one of his favourite novels! He would very much like to fall so deeply.

Soonyoung hears voices beyond the printed paper screen as the tailor’s assistant helps him into a spring green jeogori adorned with trailing white flowers accompanied by a darker green baji and wonders if Wonwoo has decided to buy something. He pokes his head out beyond the screen. “Wonwoo, what do you think of this one? Is it fetching enough?”

Only as he steps back out onto the shop floor he realises that Wonwoo is not alone. By his side stands none other than Seokmin in a fine brown overcoat, his head turning in Soonyoung’s direction at the sound of his voice. His eyes widen in surprise and then linger there, drifting from side to side as he takes him in. Soonyoung finds his hands drifting to the smooth fabric, wondering if that is a good sign or a bad one for his choice.

“Hello, Seokmin,” he says brightly, dipping his head in respect. “I did not know that you shopped here.”

“Ah,” he says, removing his hat and fidgeting it in his hands. “It was Mingyu who recommended this place to me, actually. I do not own much in the way of civilian clothing and I have been informed that I must rectify this grievance at once.”

“Oh, Mingyu has good taste in fashion! I am not surprised. He is always very well turned out.”

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

Wonwoo distracts him with his cat-like smirk, gaze flicking between them, and Soonyoung furrows his brow, looking back to Seokmin. Indeed he appears very nervous, as if he has been caught off guard. In an effort to cheer him up, Soonyoung attempts a twirl in the tight confines of the shop. “I am searching for a new hanbok for the spring blossom festival. What do you think of this one? I am fond of the colour.”

Seokmin’s gaze does not sway. Soonyoung swallows, falling back on his heels. “It is very fetching indeed. Why, I think it suits you very well.”

His cheeks flush, smiling with happiness. Seokmin is always so good at making him smile.

“I have your garments here,” says the seamstress as she returns from her back room, holding a bundle of parcels in her hands out to Seokmin.

“Ah, thank you very much,” he says, holding out his arms to take them all. “I rather think Mingyu has convinced me to purchase too much.”

“Nonsense,” says Soonyoung. “You can never have too many clothes.”

Wonwoo coughs into his fist, tearing his gaze away from Seokmin. For reasons unknown to Soonyoung he is still smiling like he is privy to some secret. He would have to treat him to tea later and pry the answer out of him, as soon as he decides on which hanbok he wants. There are so many pretty colours and fabrics but somehow he thinks he might have already found his winner if it can make Seokmin look at him like that.

“I should really be going,” Seokmin says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shall take my leave of you both now.” With a dip of his head he takes off, leaving Soonyoung still standing in his hanbok with Wonwoo staring thoughtfully after him.

“What is it?”

“You really do not know?”

“If I knew I wouldn’t be asking, would I?”

Wonwoo just sighs and shakes his head fondly. “Are you going to make a decision today? I need to return before the doctor arrives to make sure Jun is fully recovered.”

“I’m going. I’m going.”

In the end Soonyoung tries another four garments but he still chooses the green one, carrying the pieces carefully on one arm as he returns home for the evening.

*

Lanterns strung between market stalls flutter in the wind. The cherry blossom petals fall like leaves in the autumn season, lining the edges of the path in the bustling market place that has cropped up between the lines of trees. Although spring has fully bloomed it is still cold at this time of night, the sky a deep indigo beyond the bubble of warm colour under the lanterns and market lights. Soonyoung walks side by side with Minghao who has dressed in his own native hanfu, a garment similar in style to the hanbok. Black with elegant gold embroidery, it accentuates his lean figure most prettily, making him seem like some mysterious figure from a storybook. He certainly catches many looks from admirers as they pass, Soonyoung smirking at a gaggle of young women whispering behind their fans as they walk by.

“How is it that you are not yet married, my friend?” he says.

Minghao arches a brow.

“Look at you. You are so handsome, a very gifted dancer, and well educated too. Why, it would be a challenge to find a more accomplished gentleman than you.”

“Have you been drinking too much soju again?”

“I am being serious!” he exclaims, skipping ahead so he can turn back and look at Minghao. “I do not understand why no one has asked for your hand yet.”

“I am not like you, Soonyoung. I am not exactly the most personable.”

Soonyoung deflates. “And yet I do not see the line of my suitors, either.”

“It it really so important?” asks Minghao, lingering by a stall selling well-crafted wooden figurines. “I have no desire to rush into marriage with someone who does not stir my heart simply because society deems there is a time limit on these things. You should marry for love and worry less about the perceptions of others.”

Sometimes Minghao is so very wise for his years that it makes Soonyoung feel unlearned. Childish, even. He nods, pointing to a charming figure of a tiger that has been painted in orange and black stripes. “I would not accept the offer of someone I did not love,” he says. “But Mama is always mailing me to ask when I will return to the country with a husband or wife. She is growing impatient with me.”

Minghao claps a hand on his shoulder. “You do not always need to listen to others. Sometimes they mean well but will still only do you harm. Listen to your own heart, first and foremost. That is the key to happiness.”

He looks so intense that it takes Soonyoung by surprise, frozen in the midst of the bustling market place. Somewhere in the distance he hears the plucked melody of a lute. “Are you happy, Minghao?

But Minghao has also stopped in place, his eyes on a spot in the distance with his mouth parted. Soonyoung whirls to follow his eyeline when he spots them, something squeezing his heart. Mingyu and Seokmin walk through the crowds locked in conversation, both adorned in exquisitely detailed hanbok. More than a few heads turn their way and Soonyoung can understand why. They both look regal and untouchable, like characters from a novel. His eyes are drawn to Seokmin as he turns to look into the light of a string of paper lanterns, lining his features in soft pink and gold. His silken jeogori a deep navy blue lined with accents of red.

For perhaps the first time ever he feels a reticence drag his heels as they continue towards him, unsure about approaching them first even though he knows that both are far too polite to greet him unwarmly. It is a feeling he does not understand, for Soonyoung enjoys talking to all manner of people. His Mama once said she never knew anyone who could talk so freely regardless of familiarity or station, cuffing him over the ear when he had delayed her at the market because the vendor had explained the process of harvesting lotus roots.

Even more confusing for him is that he likes Seokmin and Mingyu, for they are both good company with many interesting stories to tell from their life at sea. He finds himself momentarily unmoored, tossed from wave to wave as he contemplates why he suddenly lacks the confidence to greet his new companions.

“Say, Minghao,” he says. “You like Mingyu, don’t you? You must; he invited you to attend his country home.”

Minghao makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and narrows his eyes at Soonyoung who understands Minghao’s reaction to his words even less than he understands his own feelings. So really there’s nothing for it but to push forwards. Heart thumping quicker, he picks up his pace and waves just as Mingyu turns away from the stalls, his eyes lighting up as he waves back, a handsome smile spreading across his face. Seokmin is slower to react, fixing Soonyoung with a long look he can’t begin to interpret before he dips his head in respect.

“Soonyoung,” says Mingyu. “Minghao. I’m delighted to see you both. You’re both looking splendid.”

“Thank you,” he beams, wondering why he had even been afraid. “You are both looking very handsome, too. Why, I thought the pair of you had walked out of a novel!”

He can’t be sure in the darkness but he thinks he sees Seokmin flush.

“That is very kind. Say, are you enjoying the festival? It is a pleasant evening, is it not?”

“Indeed it is,” he agrees.

The four of them walk together for a while, exchanging stories about everything from their childhoods, to life at sea, to the latest developments in the arts. To Soonyoung's surprise Minghao easily falls into step with Mingyu, allowing him to gravitate towards Seokmin in the rear. He really is so very handsome and he cannot help but steal looks at him, surprised at just how his old friend has turned out. He shines, so brightly it almost hurts to keep his gaze upon him.

"Are you hungry?" Seokmin says suddenly, pointing to a stall. "I find myself craving some bukkumi."

"Oh!" he exclaims, sniffing the various aromas on the air and finding that, yes, he is indeed quite hungry. "That sounds splendid."

Even more splendid is when Seokmin hands him over his own dumplings and Soonyoung bites into the red been paste, craving the sweetness of the filling. Everything suddenly narrows down into one exquisite moment; the flavour of the dumpling, accompanied by the distant trill of music from far away stalls, the soft blur of the lanterns, and the pleasant evening air with Seokmin beaming at him, is all so much at once that Soonyoung finds himself quite overcome. He thinks that happiness must be made of moments like these and that he is most pleased to have Seokmin returned to his life, bringing his natural warm glow with him wherever he goes.

_I hope he is here to stay,_ he thinks, as he licks his fingers of the remains of his treats. _I should very much like to be his friend again._

*

“It is absolutely divine to see you looking so well, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol, returned from his ailment of which he will reveal nothing of, smiles serenely at Jeonghan. Having been friends for many more years than Soonyoung has known either of them, he will be more than aware of how to deflect Jeonghan’s fishing. Jeonghan narrows his eyes but says no more, sipping at his wine.

It is a small get together amongst the closest of Seungcheol’s friends to celebrate his return to society for the season, after a long bout of a mysterious illness, hosted in his very fine townhouse. Generally these occasions dissolve into drunkenness and dancing with much gossip in between. Soonyoung enjoys Seungcheol’s intimate events the most because he does not feel the weight of eyes upon him expecting refined behaviour. Here the rules are relaxed so that they may enjoy one another’s company without the concern of so many expectations.

“It is far too demure in here,” says Seungcheol, clapping his hands together. “Joshua, would you be so kind as to play us a tune on the pianoforte? We are in need of music.”

Joshua slips behind the grand pianoforte situated by the window, handsome in the warm beams of sun that wash over his delicate features, and begins to play a jaunty tune that soon uplifts the mood of the party. Not ten seconds in Seungkwan has grabbed his arm and swung him around, the pair of them happy to giggle their way through a reel with sloppier steps than Soonyoung would normally allow himself. Perhaps he has already had a little much to drink.

But he can’t bring himself to regret it when he catches onto Jihoon’s hands and swings him until the scowl spins right off his face, laughing so hard he can feel tears well up in the corners of his eyes. They come to a rest with heavy breaths of exertion as the music fades out, all applauding Joshua until he flushes pink.

“You should really dance more, Jihoon,” he says. “You make an excellent partner.”

Jihoon narrows his eyes at him. “I’ll leave the childish entertainment to you, I think.”

“Dancing is not childish! How could you ever think so?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, moving to the table where a decanter of wine has been left out. He refills his glass and then gestures to Soonyoung, who hesitates for a moment before considering that he is surrounded by friends who will not judge him if he indulges himself a little more. Seungcheol approaches them both with a warm smile, his black hair falling handsomely across his forehead. He looks well. Much better than he has for a time.

“I am glad you both could make it tonight,” he says, patting Jihoon on the back. “Say, Soonyoung, I heard that you and Minghao have managed to secure yourself invites to Captain Mingyu’s estate. How did you manage that one, I must know?”

“Huh? Oh.” Soonyoung isn’t sure why he suddenly feels bashful. “I was recently made his acquaintance, mostly through Wonwoo. Did you know his cousin is my old friend Seokmin?”

Jihoon looks at him thoughtfully. “Seokmin returned from the navy recently, did he not?”

“Indeed.”

“Ah, the other mysterious captain,” says Seungcheol. “I have heard much of these two since I returned. It seems everyone is aflutter over their considerable wealth and handsomeness. Say, is it true, Soonyoung? Are they very handsome?”

Soonyoung is suddenly aware of the others hovering around them. He knows Seungkwan well enough to recognise when he’s listening in, head cocked as he stands on the periphery of Jeonghan, Joshua and Minghao. “I, uh, yes, I would say so. Considerably so.”

“My,” Seungcheol exclaims, grinning around his glass, “I do not think I have seen you so flustered. Perhaps I should call upon these gentleman myself. I would like to see the men who have society so abuzz.”

“Not only handsome but very wealthy, too,” says another voice, Jeonghan nudging his way into the conversation. Tonight his blond hair has been interwoven with ribbons into an artful braid, tucked over one shoulder on the shining brocade of his waistcoat. “You would not be the first to cast your eye on the two noble captains. In fact, I think you may have to get in line, for I believe they have already been linked to a number of suitors.”

“Indeed?” Seungcheol tilts his head. “Do share your gossip, Jeonghan. It has been so long since I have been able to indulge like this.”

Jeonghan reels off names on his fingers, of the young heirs to notable and powerful families. With each name Soonyoung feels his shoulders grow heavier, although he does not really understand why. He does not like the idea that he is not on an equal standing with Seokmin, who would never treat him as such. Neither would Mingyu, he thinks, from their interactions.

“My latest sources suggest to me that Mingyu has his eye on someone in particular,” says Jeonghan, gesturing wildly as he does so. “Seokmin is apparently more reserved unless he is amongst friends but I hear that there may be a match between he and the Jung heir, by the name of Jaehyun.”

“Oh, but he is so handsome,” says Seungcheol. “That would be quite the match indeed if it were to be true.”

“This is all I have heard,” he says.

Soonyoung fixes his smile in place but he does not feel particularly like smiling. He snatches up the soju and pours some into his empty glass, taking a large gulp when Jihoon catches his eye. Feeling caught, he holds it up in a toast but Jihoon does not mimic his gesture. Instead he moves to sit beside him, which makes him brighten. It is not often that Jihoon readily shows him any kind of affection.

“My dearest Jihoon, you do honour me tonight.”

Jihoon jabs an elbow into his ribs when no one is looking, smirking over his own cup as Soonyoung wheezes and splutters. “What has you looking so morose all of a sudden?”

Soonyoung stiffens, gaze shifting. Under Jihoon’s sharp gaze he feels like he has been speared through; pinned in place so that he cannot escape the scrutiny. “I am not morose. I am best pleased to see Seungcheol returned to his health.”

“This isn’t about Seungcheol, is it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jihoon merely arches a brow and Soonyoung sighs. “Okay, okay. I worry, when Minghao and I visit the Kim estate. The people that they have been linked with are of considerable name and income. Certainly nothing my family could rival.”

“He invited you, did he not? Why should any of the rest of it matter if you are wanted there?”

“I’m not saying that it does. Matter I mean.” His vision is growing blurry with the soju and wine burning in his stomach. He feels light and heavy at once, like his body cannot make a decision on either. Even as he knows he should stop drinking he takes another pull, warm liquor sinking into him, his hand landing on the plush carpet to keep himself steady. “I suppose it is just sobering, is all.”

“And yet I cannot say that you look particularly sober.”

“Jihoon!”

Jihoon snorts, shaking his head. “What is really the matter with you? You are not normally so concerned about such things. Why, I have seen you introduce yourself to all manner of strangers of higher station so that you might ask them to dance.”

“But dancing is different! I am very much aware of my ability to dance, Jihoon, and in those circumstances decorum does not seem to matter quite so, but this is their house and it is Seokmin who is a decorated naval captain but he is also my friend and I do not think –”

“Take a breath.”

Soonyoung follows his command, sucking in a rattling breath. “I do not think things are as they were, you know? Seokmin and I used to run around as children and pick raspberries and play in the stream.”

“I highly doubt Seokmin wants to play in the stream with you now.”

“Jihoon!” he exclaims, wrinkling his nose. “You know that is not what I meant.”

Jihoon shrugs, gaze flicking to where Seungcheol is laughing uproariously at one of Jeonghan’s likely ribald jokes, Minghao, Joshua, Seungkwan and Hansol kneeling around at what appears to be an intense game of cards. “I still do not see the problem. If he is truly your friend then he will see you for who you are rather than some petty title or measure of your wealth. If not then he is not your friend and you should spare him no further thought for he deserves none of your fretting.”

“Oh, Jihoon, you can be so unfeeling,” he says, even as he leans a head on his shoulder in a move that would likely be scandalous in any other company. He cannot remember ever feeling so confused, envying the clarity Jihoon always seem to possess in his views. “I simply mean, well. I do not know what I mean anymore.”

“So stop worrying about it. Go and stop Joshua from cheating the rest of them out of their money, the charlatan. All this thinking does not suit you.”

“Jihoon!” But he finds himself smiling. Perhaps it really is that simple, after all. Mingyu extended his invitation out to him because he wanted to be courteous but he would not have done so if he did not wish to be friends. Seokmin would certainly never think lesser of him, he is certain of that much.

Still the worry persists

*

“My, Minghao, have you ever seen such a place?” Soonyoung whirls in place, feet sounding against the gleaming marble flooring. The grand staircase loops around the hall and descends on either side of him, a crystal chandelier sparkling above, fat white gems casting light across the smooth polished wood of the bannister. His hand reaches out to tap Minghao’s shoulder, pointing him in the direction of a colossal portrait within a gilded frame of a stern gentleman who vaguely resembles Mingyu. “How magnificent!”

“If you hit me one more time, I swear to you, Soonyoung.”

Minghao has grumbled the whole carriage journey out into the country, from the moment they packed their bags, until stepping out onto the lush grounds of the Kim manor. Even before entering up the lofty stairs past the servants Soonyoung could barely process the grandeur of it; a huge, classic style manor surrounded by gardens with perfectly lined hedgerows leading into the flower gardens of so many bright blooms that he nearly bypasses the house itself to gaze upon them. Now he stares his fill as he finds that the inside is even more opulent, stately in décor even as it clearly boasts of wealth. He tugs at his newly purchased coat, feeling underdressed for such a fine home.

“You’ve both arrived.” Mingyu appears at the top of the staircase, waving as he descends like some stately prince in his stunning brocade robes that are somewhere between hanbok and modern suit. “I hope your journey was pleasant?”

When Minghao says nothing, Soonyoung beams. “Very pleasant, indeed. Thank you, Mingyu. We are both indebted for your invitation. Your home is absolutely splendid.”

Mingyu’s smile lights up his whole face, eyes sparkling. “I am glad that it pleases you.” He reaches out to shake each of their hands, his palms surprisingly callused, and Soonyoung remembers that he has spent years at sea. “Come, let us have tea in the parlour. You must be tired from travelling.”

And Soonyoung cannot complain about the plush seats in the cozy parlour room, the hearth warming him after a cold evening spent rocking inside his carriage, especially when it is accompanied by a large pot of jasmine tea and an assortment of sweet pastries that are as delectable as they look. Still, he cannot help but wonder where Seokmin is. If he remains at the manor while Mingyu occupies it, or whether he will eventually move into his own residence.

_Perhaps when he has married,_ he thinks, and does not know why this thought makes him feel strange. It must be that he still so clearly remembers the boy, so it seems odd to think of him being a man of a marrying age now.

“Ah, Seokmin,” says Mingyu as he appears at the doorway, as if summoned by Soonyoung’s thoughts. “Our guests have arrived. Will you join us for tea?”

Seokmin enters the room and performs a bow first to Soonyoung and then to Minghao. “I can spare time for our guests,” he says warmly, pulling up a chair. “I am pleased to see you both made it in high spirits.”

“Indeed, we did!” exclaims Soonyoung. “Mingyu has been such a gracious host, has he not, Minghao?” He pops another tiny tart into his mouth, savouring the sweetness.

Minghao nods his head, gaze on Mingyu who smiles softly back. “Indeed.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon engaged in discussion about a variety of topics, from ton gossip, to Mingyu’s surprisingly bawdy tales of his life on a ship, to Mingyu and Minghao’s conflicting views on the arts once more. Eventually the tea is drained, the pastries vanished, and Soonyoung struggles to stifle a yawn behind his hand from the journey into the countryside. Ever perceptive, Mingyu catches his eye.

“Seokmin, would you mind showing our guests to their rooms? I have a letter I really should have written by now and the hour is growing late.”

Seokmin dips his head. “Of course. If you both would follow me?”

He leads them up the stairs and along a warmly lit corridor lined with large bay windows, each styled with beautifully patterned curtains and seats for reading by the sunlight. Beyond the rain patters against the window, the sky so black he cannot see any of the gardens. Halfway down Seokmin stops and opens a door into a gloomy room, taking his own candle with him to light the one left by the bedside. “This room is yours, Minghao,” he says.

Minghao nods, thanking him before bidding them both goodnight. Soonyoung watches him before he closes the door, wondering if he has been more quiet than normal or if he is just imagining it. It is not so uncommon for Minghao to fall into his mercurial moods, particularly when he is away from home.

“Soonyoung?” Seokmin looks at him from further down the corridor.

“Coming,” he says, rushing to arrive at the next door.

“This one is yours,” says Seokmin as he enters to light the candles, filling the room with a warm glow. A four poster bed fills most of the space, a chest of drawers in polished mahogany against the opposite wall and fine silken curtains covering the window where the rain lashes. “I hope it is to your liking.”

Perhaps it is the rain that swallows his voice but everything seems so very quiet all of a sudden. Soonyoung finds himself reluctant to bid Seokmin goodnight and watch him leave, hovering in the middle of the room. “It is very fine, thank you.”

Seokmin nods, dipping his head on the way to the door.

“Seokmin?”

He turns, warm candle flame flickering across his cheekbones. In the gloom his eyes seem even larger, fixed upon him in a way that shortens the breaths in his lungs. “I am pleased to have made your acquaintance again. I hope that… I hope we can continue to be friends.”

It feels a long moment when there is but a second’s pause, as if time has been stretched out by cruel hands. Seokmin smiles, eyes creasing with the force of it, and warmth blooms in Soonyoung’s heart as he grins back. “I would like that very much.”

That night Soonyoung dreams of running through the fields, long grass tickling his legs. Between his fingers raspberries melt in the heat of the sun. He licks the juice from his hands, laughter pealing out, and admires the way Seokmin’s hair lightens out in the sun to a warm chestnut brown. He is young and carefree, oblivious to the rules and restrictions of society. Free to laugh and run and enjoy the company of whomever he likes.

*

Soonyoung doesn’t mean to walk in on it; it’s only that he has a tendency to flounce into a room first and then reflect on why he should have knocked after. He pauses in the doorway, watching Mingyu take Seokmin by the wrists and guide him around the airy parlour room. Light streams in from the windows on either side, bathing them both in a soft, heavenly glow. Seokmin’s brows are furrowed as he takes clumsy steps, Mingyu doing his best to talk him through the movements, but there are a few times where he goes wrong. It’s kind of endearing, really, and Soonyoung can’t help but stand there and watch even as he feels vaguely like a voyeur. He probably isn’t supposed to be seeing this.

After a few moments of staring his fill, he takes a step backwards to leave only for the floorboard beneath his foot to release a resounding creak that draws both gentlemen to a halt. Two heads dart up to him and he freezes, smile trapped in place as he stares back at them. “Ah, ah, sorry. I was looking for – I didn’t mean to – I’ll just go.”

But Mingyu crosses the room quicker than he can process, taking his wrist and dragging him into the room. “This is perfect. Soonyoung, you are an accomplished dancer, are you not? Why, all I ever hear are stories of your prowess. You must show Seokmin how to dance. I have tried to teach him but in truth I am not much better.”

Seokmin flushes but he grins genially. “I have never had the opportunity to learn, but please, do not let me trouble you. You are a guest here –”

“I’d be more than happy to teach you. I love to dance.”

“Oh.”

“Excellent.” Mingyu claps his hands together. “Now, if you will both excuse me I am going to see to preparations for the party.”

As soon as he leaves the room seems to shrink. Soonyoung glances at Seokmin, wondering what to say. It is so odd, for he is never normally so at a loss for words as he is around Seokmin. But not one to be daunted in the face of a challenge, he presses forward with his heart quickening in his chest. “Let me teach you,” he says. “I know all the fashionable dances. And the unfashionable ones, too.”

“I, uh, am not very coordinated. I am afraid you will not find me an apt pupil.”

Now he’s on familiar territory, grinning as he takes Seokmin’s hand and steadies it upon his waist, warmth seeping through the cloth of his shirt. “That is of no matter. There is not a soul in this world I could not teach to dance!”

“Hah!” says Seokmin. “I would not speak too early.”

“Nonsense.” Soonyoung focuses on the technicality of the steps and not on the heat radiating from Seokmin, the strength in his hand at his waist, and the dark lashes that flutter as he glances down at his feet. Handsome, is the first word that springs to mind. The kind of handsome that makes one wish to steal a second look, and then a third. The kind that makes his chest tighten as he nudges Seokmin’s foot backwards, a fluttering in his stomach. There is something heady about sharing a space with him, bubbling like champagne on a summer afternoon. Step by step he walks Seokmin through the first dance, demonstrating each one as he does.

“No, not that step yet!” he says after a turn to his own counts. “Here, on this count we pull apart and turn like this, see?” He mimics the motion. “Then on the next count we come back together. Palms up.”

Seokmin’s eyes widen but he’s fighting a smile.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing! I just never imagined you to be so serious.”

“I am plenty capable of being serious.” It’s a familiar gripe of his family. He is always fooling around. Never paying his duties the heed they deserve.

“No, I do not mean it an insult, forgive me. I simply meant that I can tell you are very passionate about your craft. You are very skilled at dance, Soonyoung. It is quite inspiring to see you in action.”

“Oh.” His cheeks bloom with colour. “Well, thank you. You have seen me dance?”

“I saw you at Jeonghan’s ball. Everyone was talking about you, that night.”

“No, no!” he says, pushing Seokmin back into place. “I am quite sure that was yourself. All of the young ladies and gentlemen were quite aflutter at these new handsome captains. No one was interested in me.”

“You think I am handsome?” Seokmin waggles his brows. The breath that Soonyoung catches comes rushing out in one gasping laugh, playfully hitting Seokmin on the shoulder before he can find his reason. “I am sure they would talk if they saw me dance like this.”

“Mm,” he agrees. “You are quite atrocious.”

“Why, Kwon Soonyoung, how blunt you are!”

“That’s okay.” He adjusts the position of Seokmin’s arm, feeling hard muscle shift beneath his hand. “I will teach you.”

For a while there is nothing in his head but the counts of each beat and the little crease in Seokmin’s brow as he stares at his feet, mouthing the counts with each step, the two of them gradually falling into rhythm. He feels alight, like he is dancing upon a cloud, even if Seokmin is heavy footed and slow. With every turn he grows in confidence, until he is able to mirror Soonyoung’s steps without direction, comfortably on time to the music. They draw to a close circling around one another, one palm hovering in the air. The places where their fingertips graze makes his skin tingle.

“You did it! See, I told you you could do it.”

“I believe I still have some way to go yet,” says Seokmin. “But my progress is entirely down to your tuition.”

“There’s a dancer in everyone.”

It’s only then he realises they have gravitated together, palm pressed to palm. He draws his hand back with flushed cheeks, grinning back at Seokmin because his smile is so infectious. It feels like a flower is blooming in his chest under Seokmin’s sunshine. There is something that is just a little thrilling about it; the two of them alone, without a chaperone. Scandalous, many would say. Soonyoung finds he holds little value in what society deems scandalous but that does not erase his quickening heartbeat.

“Soonyoung, are you in here?”

He flinches and draws back as Minghao enters the room, pausing on the threshold as he takes in the scene. Soonyoung feels his cheeks burn even hotter, crossing the room in quick strides. “Ah, Minghao, I was just – just teaching Seokmin how to dance. He was feeling a little inadequate, having spent so much of his years at sea.”

“Mm.”

“He has been feeding me falsehoods, it would seem. He is a very quick learner.”

“Oh, not at all!” Seokmin rubs his neck. “I am quite sure I stepped on your foot many a time.”

Minghao’s gaze flickers between the pair of them, mouth curling at the corners in that way he does when he’s trying to hold back a smile. “If you are quite finished,” he says eventually, “I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride? Mingyu has offered free reign of his stables.”

“Oh! Oh, horses! Indeed, I very much would.” He remembers himself. “Do you ride, Seokmin?”

“Not very well, I am afraid, though I enjoy it now and again.”

“Then you must join us! You must!”

“Ah, I must beg my leave of you,” Seokmin replies, palms pressed together. “I am expecting company in the next hour. But, please, do enjoy yourselves. Mingyu takes pride in his horses.”

He leaves shortly after, Soonyoung following Mingyu out into the lush grounds beyond the manor, down the winding path towards the stables nestled between the trees. They walk in silence, the air pleasant in the late morning with sunshine dappling through the leaves above. The familiar smell of dried hay drifts from within, the sound of whickering reaching him before the first horse appears in view, a beautiful brown colt popping his head out over the door to twitch his ears at them.

“You seem to get along well with Captain Seokmin,” says Minghao casually, reaching out with a gloved hand to let the animal sniff him. His nostrils flare, rearing back a moment before he tips his snout into his palm.

“Hm? Yes, yes, of course. He is a very amiable fellow.” Soonyoung drifts towards a piebald mare, stroking down her nose. He does not know why Minghao’s questioning puts him on edge but it does. Minghao never really asks innocent questions; he is rarely so interested in anything enough to ask.

“You were old friends before?”

“When we were children we used to play together in the summer and pick raspberries.” Soonyoung huffs. “It has been some time.”

“Mm.”

As Soonyoung guides his mount out with the help of the stablehand Minghao adds, “It does not seem like you have spent years apart.”

Soonyoung spins on his heel. “What does that mean? Minghao?”

But Minghao already has a leg over his horse, patting the colt on his neck. “The last one to complete a lap of the grounds has to see to the horses when we get back!” With a tug of the reigns he’s off, guiding him into a trot and then a gallop.

“Minghao!”

All thoughts of Seokmin are lost to his drive to win, quick to mount his own mare and charge after his companion.

*

“It’s just a small get together to celebrate Chan reaching adulthood,” Mingyu says, smiling at the young man across from him. “It will be his debut into society so it will be a most happy occasion.”

Chan, Mingyu and Seokmin’s young cousin having just arrived from the city, sinks lower into his seat with his mouth pulled downwards. “I am not a child,” he complains. “I should have made my debut long ago.”

“We know,” says Seokmin genially. “Unfortunately neither Mingyu nor I were here to make the proper introductions. It is better that it be done now, when we can provide you the proper debut you deserve.”

Soonyoung studies the young man, slouched over his chair with his dark hair falling across his forehead. Like his cousins he is handsome, features still softened by his youth but promising of beauty like a bud in spring. So far he has appeared to be more mercurial in nature than either Seokmin or Mingyu. Soonyoung does not think he has seen him smile since the carriage arrived late the day before, a barrage of complaints falling from his tongue.

“Chan, why don’t you finish your reading in the library?” says Mingyu. “I will have the servants fetch you for supper.”

Chan’s mouth pulls down even further and for a moment he looks as if he is going to protest before he jerks to his feet and strides off.

“Forgive him,” Mingyu says. “He has been passed from one family member to another since his parents died and has not received the care he has been due. I offered to take him so that he would not be so isolated but I am not sure he appreciates it.”

“He will.”

All heads turn to Minghao, a finger circling his wine glass. “Perhaps not now but in time he will see. Sometimes these things take time.”

Soonyoung thinks of Minghao’s family, sending him across the border to be with distant cousins so that he might improve his language skills and his knowledge of the culture. One day he will become a diplomat for his own country, and a fine good one at that, but he remembers the early days in his youth where he found Minghao to be sullen and reserved. Soonyoung supposes he would have been miserable too, if he had been pitched off to another country without his consent.

“How about a game of cards?” says Mingyu and they quickly fall into a lively game shared between the four of them.

It is only later that Soonyoung sees the boy again, accidentally taking a wrong turn on his way to his room only to find himself walking into a study he does not recognise, shelves lining every wall with a comfortable high backed chair by the hearth. Chan sits by the bay window, washed in moonlight. He turns sharply when he hears Soonyoung’s footsteps.

“My apologies,” he says. “I appear to have come in the wrong direction.”

Chan tilts his head. “Were you planning to pry?” His eyes flick to the desk. “You will find little on either of my cousins. They are both much too placid for secrets.”

Soonyoung smiles despite himself, approaching slowly as he might a timid animal. He rests his hands on the armchair. “Ah, I do not think there is a soul in this world without secrets. Though I must plead my innocence. I was genuinely lost in a manor as grand as this. It is quite overwhelming.”

Chan’s expression does not change. “You are Seokmin’s friend, are you not?”

“He has spoken of me?”

Chan shrugs, turning back to the window. “Only that he knew you in childhood. I am not surprised that so many ‘old friends’ have come out now that he has reputation and money both.”

“Hold on now,” says Soonyoung, leaning forward. “You think I am here because of your cousin’s reputation?” There are a lot of slights Soonyoung can brush off without thought but social climbing is not one of them. “I do not care that he is a decorated captain now, nor that he has wealth to his name. Seokmin was kind to me in my youth. Besides, I am a Kwon myself.”

“Mm,” says Chan, mouth quirking. “An old name, to be sure. But you lost all your wealth to your father’s gambling debts, didn’t you? They say your mother had a breakdown due to the stress and retired to a remote estate in the country.”

Soonyoung’s temper wavers but he pushes it behind a smile. It is far more unnerving to face a slight with a smile than it is a scowl, he has often found, and besides, he understands that Chan is lashing out because of his own family issues. He really is like Minghao, a bright spark unable to be contained. He cannot begrudge him his disposition as much as the barbs prick him.

“I am impressed that you are so abreast of conversation considering you have been so removed from society,” he says. “It is true that I have not the wealth my name should afford but if you would be amenable enough to get to know my character before you judge it from idle gossip, then you would know that there is no more loyal friend than I. I care deeply for your cousin, Chan, which is why I accepted his invitation to visit. There is no more to it than that.”

“So you make no ambition towards his hand? I saw you dancing together.”

Soonyoung freezes. For a moment he is speechless, unable to summon a single thought. But he has spent a lifetime dealing with the jibes of his mother’s high society friends and he is not one to be caught off guard. “Has your gossip not taught you this? I am a particularly skilled dancer. I may even teach you, if you’d like.”

Chan scowls. “I am a very accomplished dancer. I have no need for the likes of you.”

Soonyoung laughs on his way to the door. “Then I bid you a good night, dear Chan. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He affects a casual air as he returns to his room but his blood thrums in his veins. The conversation reels in his mind as he battles with sleep. When he finally falls under he dreams of dancing in an endless reel, spinning and spinning until the whole room spins away.

*

“I must say, this place is exquisite.” Jeonghan’s voice carries over the hum of chatter filling the hall. Soonyoung has to agree. The tables have been pushed back against the wall, the crystal chandeliers lit to make the floor sparkle and shine with the reflection of their dripping gems. A string quartet has been set up in the corner of the room, currently warming up with a soft melody from the violin accompanied by a musician on the pianoforte. The room shines with so many guests in their finest gowns and suits, so much silk and taffeta and brocade to make a tailor jealous.

“Thank you,” says Mingyu behind his crystal glass. “That is high praise indeed from you.”

“Where is your young charge, then? I have heard so much of his dance prowess that I am positively eager to see it in action.”

“Oh, he will be along shortly.” Mingyu says, quick to shift topic onto politics, as if that could be any less contentious. Soonyoung understands. He just wants the best for his cousin.

He drifts from conversation cluster to conversation cluster, filling his time with idle chatter with those he recognises and introducing himself to those he does not. By the time the quartet finally pick up in their music, switching from soft melodies into recognisable dance reels, Soonyoung is sure he has made a full turn around the room. His mother would be proud.

“Aren’t you going to dance, Soonyoung?” says Junhui. Tonight he is very handsome in a deep indigo three-piece. Ruby earrings dangle from his ears, matching the red embroidery around the sleeves and lapels.

“Are you offering?”

They both laugh and then they are bouncing out to join the other couples for a group dance. There is nothing Soonyoung enjoys more than feeling the music in his veins, letting it guide his feet as he skips and spins, linking arms with a red-cheeked young woman as they dance in a circle, and then he’s whirling back into Junhui’s arms. Laughter spills from him, the strange weight that’s been pressing down on him lifting until he feels like a feather drifting gently through the air. He can always rely on Junhui to be a most excellent dance partner, able to keep up with the extra flourishes he puts into his steps. He’s not unaware of the looks they draw as they spin to finish, breathless and flushed with exertion.

“I think drinks are in order after that.”

“Indeed.”

Soonyoung sips his wine as they return to Wonwoo leaning against the wall, dressed entirely in black with his circular glasses perched atop his nose, giving him a very sophisticated air. “Do you think we can convince your husband to dance if we supply him with enough drink?”

Junhui snorts, eyes alight as they drift back to Wonwoo. “I am sure arrangements can be made.”

They make a striking couple, both tall and sharp-featured, looking over the room like a pair of princes. It would almost be intimidating, if Soonyoung weren’t so familiar with both of them. For all that they may look harsh, they have two of the most gentle souls he has ever known and he is glad to call them friends.

“Oh, hold on a moment, Soonyoung,” says Junhui, nudging his shoulder. “I must go and say my hellos to Yanan. Keep Wonwoo company, will you?”

It’s no hardship for him, approaching the man by the wall. “Are you sure you would not like to dance?”

Wonwoo shakes his head.

“Not even with your husband?”

“The benefits of my refusal are twofold. This way I do not embarrass myself and I get to watch Jun at his best.”

“Hm,” he says, sipping his wine and relishing the way it warms his chest as it goes down. “He is looking very handsome tonight. I have seen many eyes upon him.”

“I am sure those eyes have also seen his ring.”

Soonyoung chuckles but as he watches couples take to the floor for a slower tune he finds his thoughts taking a contemplative tone. “How did you know?”

Wonwoo tilts his head.

“I mean, it must have been hard at first, no? What with the arranged marriage and everything. How did you know when you had fallen in love with him?”

If Wonwoo is surprised by the question he does not show it. For a moment he simply watches Junhui across the room, as if he is the only thing there. “I do not know that there was one moment. It just became apparent to me that I was glad to have this man by my side and that I would do anything to keep him there.”

Soonyoung nods, a pang of envy striking his heart. It is not that he resents his friends their happiness. It is only that he longs for such a feeling. To know that he has a constant companion to share his joy with. To wake to sunlight streaming in through the curtains, to share the happenings of his day over tea, to smile and laugh and touch and hold someone who feels the same depth of feeling for him as he does them. His mother always does say he’s a hopeless romantic.

“I think I realised the day he managed to acquire _Lilili Yabbay_ for my birthday. It’s an out of print volume from my favourite author, almost impossible to acquire. I had spent years attempting to track it down, to no avail.” Wonwoo huffs a laugh. “Imagine my surprise when I find it left on the table for me, signed by the author himself.”

“Oh.”

It’s at that moment that his eyes land on Seokmin entering the room with the same man at his side that was there in the gardens some weeks before. Jaehyun, he thinks is the name. They are indubitably striking together, turning more than a few heads in the room. Together they linger on the edge of the dance floor, talking with barely a space between their bodies. Jaehyun places a hand on Seokmin’s arm and Soonyoung thinks, _oh._ Perhaps there had been some truth to those rumours after all.

“Your old friend has certainly set the tongues to wagging.”

Soonyoung jolts, having almost forgotten Wonwoo standing right there. “Ah, hm. How so?”

Wonwoo sends him a strange look. “That he is a wealthy eligible bachelor, for one. There has already been a line of gentlemen and ladies seeking to court him, I do believe. Or so Jun likes to tell me. For the second, that he is so frequently seen with some of the country’s other most eligible bachelors. Why, there he stands with Jung Jaehyun and Jeon Jungkook.”

Another man has joined them, his dark eyes sparkling as much as the gems that drip from his earlobes. The trio of them are resplendent, earning more interest than any of the couples on the dance floor. It is almost as if a certain spell has fallen over the room, no one able to look away from them. Soonyoung is aware of Junghook, heir to the largest shipping company in the country and notorious far and wide for his beauty. That, and that the fact that he is not yet promised.

“Is he…” Soonyoung wets his lips, trying again. “Is he courting Jaehyun, do you know?”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow and he feels hot under the collar at such a scrutinising gaze, sure his friend can see right through him. What he sees, Soonyoung has no idea, but he cannot deny the rumble in his gut, like the earth itself is shifting within him. “I wouldn’t know. You would be better off asking Jun. He is more likely to know.”

“What am I more likely to know?” Junhui appears with Minghao at his side, Minghao dressed in tailoring that only emphasises the sharp angles of his body, deep burgundy and gold. His hair is tied back in a short tail, tied with an ebony ribbon.

“Are Seokmin and Jaehyun courting?” says Wonwoo.

Junhui turns to watch the group, who have been joined by a fourth. Kim Mingyu fills out their quartet most handsomely, his arms waving as he talks, causing the other three to erupt with laughter. “Hm. I have heard something of it but I think it is mere rumour. They are all tied by their naval roots so I dare say they are likely just friends, but such an assumption is not so outlandish. Minghao, you have become close to Mingyu. Do you know anything?”

Minghao shrugs. He has never cared much for gossip so it has likely escaped his notice. But Soonyoung notices that even his gaze lingers on the group, watching them instead of the dancing as is his usual custom. He and Soonyoung usually enjoy picking apart other dancers’ forms for entertainment. Sometimes Junhui will even join them.

“It looks like someone has been brave enough to approach them.” Junhui nods with a tilt of his glass as a group of women hover nearby, not shy in making their interest known.

Soonyoung only recognises the woman at the front of her group, long ebony locks tumbling down the back of an exquisite lavender dress that accentuates her rich skin. She is confident for a young lady, he thinks, but he knows Eunbi to be both a talented dancer of grace, and a beautiful heiress much desired by many a gentleman and lady as a partner. She slips a silken glove into Jungkook’s and the two step off onto the dance floor. They have the attention of most of the room.

Another of the ladies requests Jaehyun’s hand and then they’re stepping after them. Soonyoung is so caught up in the spell that has been woven over the room that he doesn’t realise until it’s too late that Seokmin is walking in his direction. Wonwoo smirks. “Looks like he’s heading this way, Soonyoung.”

Seokmin stops in front of him, something of a bashful smile gracing his features. “Soonyoung, I am here to plead for your help. I do not wish to show myself up on the dance floor but Mingyu is insisting that I take a turn at least once lest I gain a reputation for being antisocial.”

His eyes fall on the outstretched hand, an elbow jabbing into his ribs startling him into action. “Ah, we can’t have that, can we?” he manages, handing his glass over to Junhui as he follows Seokmin onto the floor to join the other couples. The warmth of his hand in his draws his focus until he doesn’t see the twinkling lights, or the swirling gowns, or the watching eyes. It’s just as well he knows every dance by heart or he would be tripping over his own feet, only falling into the rhythm by the steps ingrained into his body.

“Fortunately this is one of the dances you showed me the other day or I fear there would be no hope for me.”

Soonyoung risks looking up as Seokmin’s other hand falls upon his waist, heat radiating through the cloth of his coat. Seokmin’s eyes sparkle in the light of the chandelier as they spin around the floor, soft light brushing artfully across a face sculpted like the marble busts in Mingyu’s gardens. There is such a warmth that radiates from him, the sun personified into man, that it is difficult not to lean into. He feels like a flower that has only just emerged from the ground, thawing out from the winter frost.

“You seem a lot more steady tonight,” he says. He feels the steps more than thinks them, letting the music wash over him. Seokmin takes his hand and spins him around, the colours of the ballroom flashing until he returns to the one steady point of Seokmin’s grip.

“Do I?” Somehow Seokmin is still humble despite his looks, his status, his wealth. “I think you are just humouring me, Kwon Soonyoung.”

He laughs, tension he hadn’t realised was there slipping from his shoulders. “I would never. No, look at you. You are leading me well.”

The lute chimes out a delicate melody over the strings that swell as the music reaches a crescendo. Soonyoung’s heart thumps in time to the drums, feeling like the time is reeling away from him. He wants this movement to last forever, to simply spin in Seokmin’s arms. To let their palms hover over one another, feeling skin brush skin and laugh with embarrassment. To feel the warmth of that smile, just for him.

The music fades out, all the couples on the dance floor drawing to a stop that is met with a round of applause from onlookers on the periphery. It is only then that Soonyoung remembers where he is but even then he cannot find it in him to break gazes with Seokmin. “Would you look at that?” he says. “There is a standing ovation for you.”

Seokmin shakes his head, grinning. “Not at all. I think you saved me from making a fool of myself.”

“Hardly.”

Realising the music has changed, he slips his hands out of Seokmin’s. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jaehyun linger, Jungkook at his flank. Soonyoung coughs and nods in their direction. “I think your friends are looking for you.”

“Huh? Oh.” Seokmin turns back to look at him. “Thank you, Soonyoung. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. It was no trouble – it was great.” He gives an awkward little wave and then sidles back to his corner of the room. His face feels too hot and his stomach is twisting itself up into enough knots to make a sailor impressed.

Soonyoung takes one look at Junhui’s bright grin and cuts straight past him, calling back over his shoulder that he just needs some air. He chases the plush carpet lining the hallway out past the doors, falling into the cool embrace of the night beyond the doors. The air is soothing against his flushed skin and deep gulps of it help to calm his racing heart. He doesn’t even want to contemplate it. It’s so much scarier than he ever thought it would be, his hand braced on the wall to ground himself.

It’s just Seokmin. It’s just his friend from childhood, only he’s grown into a man handsome and self-assured and yet still refreshingly sweet. He is every bit the fairytale prince Soonyoung always dreamed of after binging on stories about knights and castles and dragons. Except he’s real. He’s real, and he’s solid beneath his hands, he possesses a smile that could light up the darkest room. He’s also so, so wealthy, and a decorated captain, and one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. It’s just – hard to face it. The notion that he should finally find what he has been seeking for for so long – that fluttering in his breath and tingling of his skin – only for him to run from it instead of towards it.

No, Soonyoung does not think it can be so. To Seokmin he is a reliable friend, teaching him to dance so he will not embarrass himself in front of his society friends. Even as they had finished there had been Jaehyun and Jungkook waiting for him, both so far out of Soonyoung’s league that he can never dare to hope. Besides, they are _friends_. He cannot break the sanctity of that, no matter what his traitorous heart feels.

“What are you doing out here?”

Soonyoung spins, heart skipping a beat. He looks out into the darkness beyond the torches and jumps when a figure materialises from his left, flame rippling over his features. It takes him a moment to place him, shoulders dropping as he sinks back against the wall. “Hello, Chan,” he sighs. “I just wanted a little fresh air. It is such a pleasant night and all.”

Chan arches a brow. “It is pitch black and freezing.”

“Ah, well. It is stuffy inside.”

“It is always stuffy inside.”

Soonyoung does know what to make of this cousin of Seokmin and Mingyu, so tense as if he is braced for a fight, prowling across the path with his shining shoes crunching against the gravel. He does not think Chan likes him very much. It pains him, in the way that anyone disliking him pains him, for Soonyoung is cursed with the overwhelming desire to be liked above everything else. And this is Seokmin’s _family_. More than anything he wishes to be liked by Seokmin’s family. Idly he wonders if his mother still remembers him from childhood, whether she would recognise him now. Whether she would smile to see him.

“I do not think it suits you to be thinking so.”

Soonyoung arches a brow. “Oh?”

“I have only ever seen you vapidly smile. What could possibly make you frown so sternly? Has someone insulted your dress?”

He blinks, taken aback. “A man cannot take air any longer? Should I depart this house entirely upon your whim, my dear Chan?” He dips his head in an over exaggerated bow before he can stop to think about what he is doing. “Forgive me for so grievously stepping over the bounds of propriety. Why, I must rectify this at once.” He turns on his heel, only to be greeted with a peal of laughter.

Soonyoung turns, even more bemused to find Chan’s shoulders shaking, eyes creased with mirth. “Perhaps I understand my cousin’s fondness for you now. Why, you should take up theatre, dear Soonyoung. How much you are suited to melodrama, you really ought to act.”

He knows when he is being teased, and yet he cannot resist the smile that takes him. He tilts his head, takes Chan in. Like his cousins he is dressed most handsomely, tailored to the latest fashions. “Say, why are you not in there making your debut? I thought this party was supposed to be for you.”

Darkness ripples across Chan’s features. “I have no appetite for it tonight.”

“No?” This Soonyoung cannot understand. He had been so excited for his own debut he still remembers it vividly, the music that played and the dress of his first dance partner, adorned with ribbons and lace that flowed out most prettily when they spun beneath the chandelier. “But I have heard you are a talented dancer. As someone who prides myself in my own skills I consider it my express duty to examine the veracity of that claim.”

Chan snorts. “I have no desire to submit myself to you for inspection.”

He clucks his tongue in disapproval. “But here I am, offering to give you the most spectacular first dance you could ever have. They will talk about you from here all the way to the city.”

Chan’s brows lift. “You claim to be that good, do you?”

“Claim? I am the best around.” He holds out a hand. “Come, I will show you.”

Different emotions flicker across Chan’s features, as if he knows that in some way Soonyoung is manipulating him. Since he means it all in earnest he only hopes Chan will be emboldened enough to face his reticence in the face. There is no other way to overcome a burden, Soonyoung thinks, even if he does not know why Chan, so bold of tongue, is suddenly so shy in the face of society. Then again, he is still soft of face in his youth, sheltered from the hum and chatter that livens the room, unaware of how to handle the stares behind fans as the gossip circles around him. To be in public is to be discussed in this world. It is not so unusual that Chan would feel fear.

“Do you know this number?” he asks as he leads Chan onto the floor.

Chan’s chin snaps up to his, gaze hardening. “Yes.”

To his delight Chan is a most intuitive partner, falling into step with him with both grace and poise, his natural sense of rhythm ensuring he can keep time with Soonyoung’s extra flourishes that he pulls out when he has someone he wishes to impress. They’re dancing to a lively reel adorned with kicks and spins and it requires a lot of energy. Chan comes alive beneath the swell of the music, his steps sharp and clean, his movements precise. Soonyoung is not unaware of all the eyes in the room gravitating towards them. It would be hard not to watch two such gifted dancers letting loose on the floor, twirling and spinning as if they have been partnered for years.

When the music finally fades it is replaced with a smattering of applause. Face flushed and sweaty, Soonyoung lets loose the laugh held in his chest, bowing at the waist as he raises Chan’s hand. “How was that for a debut?” He leans in with a wink. “They will be sure to talk about you now.”

Chan’s look turns speculative.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Let’s move away. I don’t like this song.”

“Of course.”

To the eyes of many Soonyoung leads Chan towards where Wonwoo stands overlooking the room, Junhui and Minghao’s heads bowed in deep conversation. They look up as he approaches, eyes flicking between Soonyoung and Chan.

“Introduce us to your charming friend, Soonyoung,” says Junhui with a smirk.

“Chan, let me introduce you to Wen Junhui, a good friend of mine. This is Lee Chan, cousin to Seokmin and Mingyu. This is his debut night.”

“Oh my, and you dance so well already?” Junhui drifts closer. “I think you have had every eye in this room on you tonight. I dare say you have made quite the spectacular debut.”

Poor Chan flushes beneath Junhui’s praise. Soonyoung knows his friend can be quite hypnotising when he tries to be. His grin grows wider as Wonwoo finally moves from his perch against the wall, intimidating when his face is drawn into a perfectly blank mask. “Perhaps you should not crowd the boy, Jun?” He lifts his hand to rest on his husband’s arm, light catching off his wedding band.

“I am merely making conversation!”

Minghao snorts behind his glass at the pair of them, eyes shifting as another figure approaches.

“Soonyoung, just where do you find all these handsome young gentlemen?” Jeonghan sidles up to them with a predatory smile adorning his lips. Chan flushes even darker under such a heated gaze and Soonyoung feels the need to shift his weight so that he partly shields the boy from Jeonghan’s focus. Perhaps he has miscalculated with his friends. Seokmin will never forgive him if he tarnishes his poor cousin’s reputation. Nay, Chan will never forgive him the embarrassment, and Soonyoung very much wishes for Chan to like him.

“You know me, Jeonghan. Always pulling them in. Now if you will excuse us.”

“So soon? And where will you be heading off to?”

Soonyoung swats at him. “Mind your manners,” he scolds. “We are supposed to be making a good impression.”

Jeonghan laughs, holding his glass aloft. “You are so very boring.”

“Yes, yes.” Soonyoung leads Chan away from them, a hand on the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I am terribly sorry about them. They can be quite rotten when they are drunk.”

To his relief Chan only laughs. “You have some… peculiar friends, Kwon Soonyoung.”

“I promise you they are good of soul no matter how devilish they may appear.”

“Perhaps.” Out in the quiet of the corridor, Chan dips his head. “Thank you for tonight. It was an enjoyable dance.”

Soonyoung blinks. “You are finished?”

“I will find my cousins, so they do not worry for me.”

“I am sure you will have many requests for dances now.”

“Hm. At least now I will know they see me for my own prowess and not who I can grant them an audience with.” At Soonyoung’s expression he laughs again, more bitter this time. “It would not be the first time someone has shown an interest because they wish to know Seokmin or Mingyu.”

Soonyoung frowns. “I hope you do not think I –”

“No, I rather think not.” Chan’s mouth curls. “You are much too earnest for such deception, aren’t you?”

As he turns to leave Soonyoung just stands there, watching his retreat. Chan’s tone had been warm but he cannot work out if he has just been called dim-witted.

*

Soonyoung doesn’t see Seokmin again until the following afternoon, the day before he is due to leave Mingyu’s residence to return home. He is searching for Minghao, having already passed through half of the residence’s many rooms, his journey slowed by his need to gawp at the spectacular paintings spanning the walls and the ornate carving into furniture that he cannot resist trailing his fingers along, but he cannot seem to find his cousin anywhere. Outside the rain pours, battering against the window with force, so he knows he can at least rule out the gardens.

Expecting to see him curled up with a book in the study, he realises too late it is occupied not by his cousin but by another, glasses perched upon his nose as he flicks through pages with a flutter that stirs his hair. He tries to step backwards but as he does so catches a loose floorboard that groans out beneath his weight.

Seokmin glances up, pulling the breath from Soonyoung’s lungs at the sight of him so casual in a linen shirt and cotton waistcoat, thin frames giving him a bookish look that is somehow only more charming on him.

“Soonyoung?”

“I, um…” Feeling it would be rude to run out now, he steps further into the room and dips his head in greeting. “Good afternoon, Seokmin. I do not suppose you have seen my cousin anywhere, have you?”

“Minghao? No, I am afraid to say I have not seen him all day.”

Soonyoung nods. “I shall leave you to your reading –”

“Soonyoung, wait.” Seokmin stands, eyes wide and ever so slightly startled. Perhaps it is the effect of his spectacles. “I wanted to thank you, for what you did for Chan. I know he will never speak of it but I believe it meant a lot to him.”

Soonyoung hums. The rain lashes down, thundering against the roof. Despite the violence of the downpour there is something soothing about being sheltered in the warmth of the Kim residence. “I do not think you need to thank me. I merely corralled him into being my partner because I enjoy dancing. He is very skilled.”

“Indeed.” Seokmin smiles that radiant smile of his that has Soonyoung smiling in return, as if a marionette on his strings. “But I still think your actions were a kindness. He is still unsure of himself in these matters due to his sheltered upbringing. I am grateful, that his memories of his debut will be so pleasant.”

Warmth floods his chest. Soonyoung has no idea what he’s supposed to do with words like these, burning like embers in his heart. “I…” He rubs his neck, chokes out a strangled laugh. “Well, I am only glad I could help.”

Seokmin takes a step towards him, and then another. The smile drops off Soonyoung's face as he tips his head upwards to peer into Seokmin's eyes, dark and honest. He is struck by memories of the swelling music, the sweet melody plucked from the lute, and the swish of silk as Eunbi and Jungkook had swept past them. By the tingle of palms skimming makes his fingers curl, his mind reeling with the image of Seokmin guiding him in his arms, their breaths mingling. By the heat spreading through him, of a steady hand bracing his back.

Soonyoung swallows and the sound seems to reverberate through the room, even with the pounding of the rain. His heart is racing in his chest and he cannot find it in himself to deny it anymore, sinking into the depths of his feelings. He hardly dares to dream, breathless with some pregnant anticipation he cannot name. Cannot bare to even think of it, for fear he will ruin everything.

“Soonyoung, I –”

The slam of a door sends them both careening back, Soonyoung’s cheeks flooding with colour. An angry voice picks up in volume until he can hear words. “– Forgive me for not realising how repulsive the words would be to you.”

“Mingyu, you know it is not that.”

“No, then what is it?”

“The circumstances –”

“Oh, do not give me that! You know I do not care for your circumstances.” There’s a pause. “I didn’t mean – you know that is not what I meant. Minghao, I do not see that we are so different. What does anything matter, if what I feel overcomes all of it?”

Soonyoung recognises the tone of Minghao’s voice, flat and cold. “I do not wish to be something you would overcome.”

“Minghao!”

Feet pound and then the door before them flies open. Mingyu takes several steps before he realises, eyes widening as he sees them with his hand poised in his cravat, in the process of tearing it from his neck. “Seokmin. Soonyoung. I…” He dips his head and steps back. “Forgive me, I shall –”

“No, I should –” Soonyoung begins but before he can finish Mingyu is gone. He turns to Seokmin who looks concerned, brows drawn tight. “What is the meaning of all of this?”

“Mingyu has been harbouring affections for your cousin for some time,” says Seokmin. “It would seem that he has chosen to express them and they have not been taken well.” The expression twisting his features is the darkest he has seen on him yet. “I knew it a bad idea but I could not persuade him so.”

Soonyoung, who is still reeling as several pieces fall into a larger picture – the secret, hushed conversations, the way Minghao would actually engage a relative stranger in discussion, and the long looks between them – manages to utter out, “Why so?”. Of course, he has been so blind as to not see it. How foolish. Oh, his cousin must be hurting badly. He must seek Minghao out at once and confront him as gently as he can. Minghao has a way of retracting in on himself when upset like this.

“It is obvious Minghao is only playing with Mingyu’s feelings. I feared it before but now I know it to be true.”

Soonyoung whirls on him then. “What ever do you mean?”

Seokmin’s eyes widening. “That is – I know he is your cousin, Soonyoung. But he has been inviting Mingyu’s affections without any intentions of returning them. It is a cruel game to be sure.”

“You do not know that at all!”

Seokmin seems taken aback by the force of his conviction as he steps into his space, pressing a finger to his chest. “How dare you make assumptions about someone with whom you have barely spoken? You do not know my cousin the way I do. Why, you would not know the prejudice he has faced his entire life, to be not of one country but two.” Seokmin opens his mouth to speak but Soonyoung gives him no room. “He is reserved because he has had to learn to be, because you could never understand what he has to contend with simply by being. He must guard his heart well, lest it would have been crushed years ago. You know, I never would have thought you to be so judging, Seokmin. It would seem I have been severely misguided about you.”

“Wait, Sooyoung!”

Seokmin grabs his wrist but Soonyoung wrests it away, blood boiling at the slights against his cousin. “I will take my leave of you,” he says.

With that he storms from the room, blinking past the tears that blur his vision of the grand hallways beyond.

*

The clink of the teacup on the saucer is muffled by the crash of the rain as it thunders against the window. Minghao paints a striking picture, his long limbs stretched out along the sill as the light bathes his elegant profile. Soonyoung doesn’t think he has seen him move for days, simply staring out at the storm with a blank expression. He had expected a mourning period but now he’s starting to get worried.

“You’re going to have to move eventually, you know,” he says as he sinks into an armchair opposite him, the tea warming him as it goes down, a fresh floral scent permeating the room. Normally Minghao likes this, cozy afternoons in the study while the spring rains pour.

Minghao doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Oh, come on. You need to talk to someone. I know I’m not the _best_ listener but I’m here. I’ll wait here for as long as you need.”

He’s not eating, either. Likely not sleeping, from the reports that he has been spotted wandering the halls in the middle of the night. Soonyoung has never seen him like this. Has never seen his proud cousin so worked up over someone else.

“Did he really – did he really propose?”

Minghao’s head jerks up. “Why? Is that so incredibly outlandish?”

“ _Ah,_ ” he says, sipping his tea. “So it’s like that, then.”

“Like what?”

“That thing you do where you push people away before they can reject you. Only, you know, I do not think Mingyu was rejecting you at all, was he?”

Minghao’s expression turns as thunderous as the weather outside. Thunder erupts from the sky, clouds thick and dark as if Minghao has summoned them with his mood. Soonyoung would not put it past him.

“Are you going to deny it?”

“I was not –” he sees Soonyoung’s expression and turns away again. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then how was it?”

“It does not matter now, does it?” His lip curls.

“I rather think it does, given how upset you seem to be.”

They sit there for a long time with nothing but the pounding of the rain against the window. Soonyoung drinks his tea and then refills his cup from the pot, topping up Minghao’s even though he has barely touched his own. Sometimes these things require waiting, even if Soonyoung has always been terrible at waiting.

“I mean, does it make any sense to you?”

“Does what make sense to me?”

Minghao huffs, waving his hand in the air. “You saw his friends. Jung Jaehyun. Jeon Jungkook. Wealthy men of high breeding. Sociable, handsome, sought after men. Why would he bother to look at me, if it were not some curiosity of his? I am sure he has heard the rumours of me that circle around. Perhaps he felt some pity, I do not know.”

Soonyoung’s eyes bug. He has spent so long in admiration of his cousin’s brazenness that he forgets how brittle he truly is beneath his steel facade. “Minghao, that is nonsense. Why, not only are you very handsome, you are more accomplished than any man I know! You are well-read, can play the piano, speak multiple languages, are versed in diplomacy and politics and the arts, and you are always on top of the latest fashions. I do not think it any strange thing that you have turned Mingyu’s head, but he must be quite confused that you were so cold in your response.”

Minghao stares at the rain lashing against the window. “I am quite sure it would be impossible. We are not matched at all.”

“I think you are only making yourself miserable by telling yourself that.”

“What makes you so certain? I do not think you are the one to be taking advice from in matters of the heart when you continue to lie to yourself about your own feelings.”

Soonyoung stiffens in his seat, heart picking up in speed. “What do you mean? I am not lying about anything.”

Minghao scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “You mean to tell me you were not hoping for something from Seokmin? You should abandon such childish notions, dear cousin. He is far above your station.”

Soonyoung leaps to his feet, eyes stinging. “I know you are hurting,” he says, “but that is no reason to take your anguish out on me.”

Fleeing from the room, Soonyoung tears down the corridor and up the staircase to his bedchamber. Throwing himself onto his bed, he buries his face in his hands and tries to quell the surge of panic in his breast at the notion that Minghao knows. That perhaps everyone knows. That perhaps they have seen the way Soonyoung’s eyes track Seokmin around the room when they are together. The way he has pictured, time and time again, the two of them at the alter with sunlight gleaming from Seokmin’s golden skin. It is a bloom hidden in a sheltered garden within his ribcage, growing stronger every day. Unfurling outwards into a flower both delicate and fierce.

Soonyoung loves Seokmin and he does not need to be reminded that it cannot be. He has nothing of value to offer; his family in ruin. Whatever his name may have once afforded him has been stamped upon and ripped apart by his father’s infidelity and debt. The rain plunders on, angry at it beats against the roof, masking the sounds of his off-beat sobs.

He is glad for the rain, to mask his tears.

*

The bright spring sunshine cannot distract Soonyoung from the heaviness that weighs down his shoulders, subdued as he treads the paths of the city gardens, lost in his thoughts. The bright blooms do not capture his attention, a butterfly flitting past his gaze unremarked. The sky is a spotless, pristine blue, the air a balmy temperature pleasant for walking, but he cannot bring himself to appreciate it.

“I cannot see it,” says Junhui, returned to a more healthy pallor some weeks after his ailment. “No matter what he says he has never been interested in returning home.”

“I do not know,” Soonyoung sighs. “It has affected him far more than I ever could have foreseen. I have never known him to look quite so miserable. Perhaps it might be better for him.”

Junhui looks at him sharply. “Running away is never the answer, Soonyoung. No, I dare say he would be making a grave mistake if he thinks turning away from this is the way to go about it. I should quite like to take him by the shoulders and give him a stern shake. Whatever is that boy thinking?”

“He does not see how Mingyu could truly care for him. I think he sees it as some whim of Mingyu’s that he expects to fade in time.”

Junhui wrinkles his nose. “I deplore of him sometimes. Why, does he not remember the grief I went through when Wonwoo and I were first married? He knows we spent our first months in constant battle.”

“I must confess that I do not understand his thinking.”

Soonyoung can’t help but let his thoughts drift, making connections he wishes he would not. The image of Seokmin in the parlour room springs to mind, so close he could feel his breath on his skin, chestnut hair falling most handsomely across a face cut from marble. If Seokmin had been the one to propose, why he would have been dancing through the streets right now. In fact, he is quite sure he would be shouting it out loud for anyone to hear. He is sure his cousin cares for Mingyu, for there are few he cares to converse with, and he has caught the pair of them on more than one occasion completely absorbed in one another, so the reason for his rejection is difficult for him to conceive.

To think Seokmin could get it so wrong. To think he could not see how clearly Minghao loves Mingyu.

“Ah, Jun, why must these things be so complicated?” he says, kicking at a stone.

Junhui gives him a soft, secretive smile. “I rather think it would not be half so exciting, were these things to be easy.”

Soonyoung utters a noise. “Even so! I do not wish for Minghao to leave.”

“Hm. Perhaps it is not too late.”

“Huh?”

Junhui nods his head and Soonyoung follows his gaze, stilling when he spots Mingyu walking towards them with none other than Chan by his side. He looks around, aiming for a path he can dart down so they will not be spotted, but before he can attempt a quick escape Junhui grabs him by the arm and steers him towards them, no amount of digging in his heels deterring him from approaching.

“Jun!” he hisses beneath his breath. “This isn’t –”

“Kim Mingyu-ssi,” Junhui greets with a wave of his hand, forcing Mingyu to stop and acknowledge him lest he lose his reputation for being so polite. “What a pleasant surprise to catch you out on such a splendid day.”

“Indeed,” says Mingyu, dipping his head, but he lacks his usual conviction. There are dark circles beneath his eyes. “You are both keeping well, I hope?”

“We are,” says Junhui, nudging Soonyoung as he squirms on the spot. “I have yet to thank you for accompanying Wonwoo to the doctor so I will do so now. I am obliged.”

Mingyu’s gaze softens. “Oh, it was no trouble at all. I know how concerned Wonwoo was.”

Chan meets Soonyoung’s eye and he gives him a small wave, relieved to find it returned. At least Chan appears to bear him no ill will despite how messy his and Minghao’s departure from the estate had been.

“Will you walk with us for a moment?” Junhui asks, completely unimpeded by societal norms. Soonyoung gapes even as Mingyu pauses.

“I, uh, of course.” Mingyu thaws out, falling into step with Junhui, Chan drifting towards Soonyoung. “It is such a pleasant morning, after all. Are you heading somewhere specific or simply out for a stroll?”

“We are out with purpose, in fact. Soonyoung and I were intending to pay a visit to our mutual acquaintance, Minghao.” Soonyoung snaps his mouth closed before he can let out his noise of surprise. Mingyu’s shoulders stiffen in front of him. “Have you heard? He is intending to return home.”

Mingyu stops walking. “He is?”

Junhui nods, continuing on as if he is unaware of the circumstances. Soonyoung cannot believe how bold his friend is being.

“I can hardly believe it. I tried to tell him that he would be sorely missed but he hardly believed it. Is that not madness?”

Mingyu utters a noise but he looks stunned. Soonyoung almost wants to laugh, at just how easily Junhui has reeled him in. "Indeed," he says at last. "That is surprising news, indeed."

*

It is a rare occasion for Soonyoung and Minghao to miss one of Hansol’s parties but neither of them seem to be able to summon the appropriate mood. Instead they linger in the parlour room together, Minghao reading a novel while Soonyoung plays cards by himself, a fresh pot of tea steaming across from him on the table and filling the room with the fragrant scent of jasmine. Every so often he looks up from his cards to spare a glance for Minghao, still worried about how much he has withdrawn since their visit to the Kim estate. Reshuffling his deck, he doles out a fresh set as he tries to picture the house without Minghao in it. The thought sits uncomfortably in his gut.

“What is it, Soonyoung?”

“Huh?” Soonyoung doesn’t mean to catch his eye. “Ah, I saw Mingyu today.”

Minghao straightens but he tilts his eyes back to his book as if not wanting to appear too interested. The lie is revealed by the way he perches in his seat, far too rigid to be in a comfortable reading position.

Soonyoung licks his lips. “He seems somewhat out of sorts. Even Junhui thought so.”

Minghao turns the page, furrowing his brow and mouthing along to the words. Minghao never does this when he reads, easily sitting in the same position for hours without expression as he pours over the pages.

“He was acting very much like you are doing now, when your name was mentioned.”

Minghao’s eyes snap to his. “You mentioned me?”

“Junhui did. Mingyu seemed interested but he was quick to depart afterwards. I think his heart is still –”

“Do you think I have ruined things?”

Soonyoung pauses, taking in the smooth lines of Minghao’s face. He sucks in a breath, combing over his words. This is a delicate situation indeed and he does not wish to be the cause for cracks. “No, I do not think anything is ruined at all, nor do I think Mingyu considers you any differently than before. However, if you leave now and return home for this reason alone… I think it would be a grave mistake.”

Minghao sinks back, his free hand clutching the arm of his chair. His brows are drawn into a tense line, his lip red from biting it. Despite what he claims he has clearly been worrying himself relentlessly over this.

“For what it’s worth,” Soonyoung says, “I do not wish for you to leave either.”

Minghao blinks, looking at him.

A knock at the door saves them from drawing out the awkwardness, Soonyoung quick to rise from the parlour and take the short walk down the hall. Given that tonight is the night of Hansol’s party, and anyone who is anyone should be dancing the night away, he is thoroughly unprepared for the sight he faces when he opens the door. Standing at his door in a handsome top hat and elegant coat is none other than Seokmin, an apprehensive look on his face as he removes his hat to dip his head in a short bow. Soonyoung is momentarily at a loss for words.

“Soonyoung,” he says, “forgive me for calling without advanced notice. I know the hour is late and I am likely disturbing you but –”

“No,” Soonyoung says without thinking. “No, you are not disturbing me.” How can he possibly be mad with Seokmin when he’s fumbling on his doorstep, having clearly left Hansol’s to pay him a visit? “Would you like to come inside?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen.

“Oh, Minghao is inside! We would not be alone.” He flaps his hand in panic.

Seokmin’s eyes curve as he smiles. “I, ah, if it would not be an imposition.”

“It would not,” he says, withdrawing to allow Seokmin inside. It feels strange to close the door behind them, both sharing a glance that has them both immediately averting their gazes. “Let me take your coat.”

With that taken care of he leads Seokmin into the parlour, surprised to find that Minghao has vacated it since Seokmin’s arrival. “He must have heard you come in,” Soonyoung says apologetically, directing Seokmin to an armchair. “Would you care for tea?”

“No, thank you.” Seokmin looks around the room, hands bunched in his lap. “How is he doing?”

“About as well as Mingyu appeared to be doing when I saw him this morning.”

“Ah.”

After another bout of uncomfortable silence, Soonyoung takes a long draw of his lukewarm tea and blurts out, “So, what you brings you here, Seokmin?”

“Ah! I, hm, I wanted to apologise to you, Soonyoung.”

“You did?” His heart quickens, finally allowing himself to take in the sight of Seokmin in his parlour room, impossibly handsome in his finery, yet every bit the kind boy he once knew.

“I spoke too hastily. I was too harsh on your cousin when I knew little of him at all. Mingyu has spoken to me of him at length and I recognise that I misjudged his character. You had every reason to be angry with me and I can only apologise whole-heartedly.”

“ _Oh_ ,” he says. For a moment the room is taut with tension as he processes. He swears he hears Seokmin breathe a sigh of relief when he smiles, unable to remain mad in the face of such earnestness. “Of course, you’re forgiven. I was probably too hasty to judge you, too. You do not know Minghao as well as I.”

“I wish to make amends, even so.” Seokmin leans forward, voice lowering. “I want to help them both to see sense. I cannot bear to see Mingyu if Minghao truly does decide to return to his homeland. We must push them in the right direction.”

Soonyoung grins. “Yes! Yes, we must! Tell me, what did you have in mind?”

And so they spend the rest of the evening, talking themselves hoarse through the options for bringing their cousins together.

*

“Does this not feel a little nefarious?” says Wonwoo, watching from the shade of the house as Junhui directs their servants in arranging the tables.

“What is nefarious about it? It is your dear Junhui’s birthday next week. It makes perfect sense to me that the pair of you would host a party to celebrate.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes. “You know Minghao will be furious with you once he realises what you have been machinating. It is not for you to meddle in others’ lives.”

“Not even if it will bring them greater happiness?"

“Wonwoo!” calls Junhui, waving. “Come help us with these paper lanterns.”

With a sigh, Wonwoo shakes his head but he cannot fight a fond smile. “I am only cautioning you that the heart is a more fickle creature than you realise. Not everyone is as resilient as you are, Soonyoung.”

“I only want what’s best for him!” Soonyoung yells as Wonwoo walks off, the embroidery on his waistcoat shining beneath the summer sunshine.

Later, once the afternoon has ripened and Soonyoung is sweating beneath his finery enough to shed down to his shirt, he finds himself distracted as he makes idle conversation with Seungcheol and Jihoon, eyes flitting between them and the door. Minghao had arrived nearly an hour before, currently engrossed in conversation with Junhui somewhere inside, and he does not seem to suspect a thing, yet Soonyoung is thrumming with tension. The reason why mostly escapes him, for he is certain that as soon as they are in the vicinity of one another again they will realise the folly of their actions and rectify them at once. That and he desperately wishes to see Seokmin again. To confirm they are truly at peace with one another.

“Who are you waiting on, Soonyoung?” says Seungcheol with a smirk. “A dashing young captain, perhaps?”

“Huh?” Distracted, he looks away just as two figures enter the garden from the Jeon manse, gaze bouncing back again when he realises it is indeed Mingyu and Seokmin looking splendid in their summery finery. Soonyoung drags his gaze away to see Seungcheol and Jihoon studying him, grinning and appraising respectively. “I’m not – I’m just.” He takes a gulp of his wine, cheeks hot.

“Ah, our Soonyoungie is all grown up now.” Seungcheol ruffles his hair and Soonyoung bats him away but there’s little heat in the action.

“Don’t look but here comes your captain now,” Jihoon says with a nod.

“He’s not my captain!” Soonyoung hisses just as Seokmin waves his greeting. A hand wraps around his elbow, warmth spreading across his skin, and then Seokmin nods in apology. “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I must borrow Soonyoung for one moment.”

“Please, do not mind us at all,” says Seungcheol, holding aloft his glass.

Soonyoung flaps his hand at him as he scampers after Seokmin, heart skipping a beat as he is pulled into a shaded portion of the garden next to a huge oak tree. They’re so close he can pick out every individual lash framing Seokmin’s warm gaze, his hand a brand on his arm. “Seokmin,” he breathes in greeting.

“Mingyu was reluctant to come today. I have convinced him to make a showing for Wonwoo’s sake but I do not know how long that will keep him here. We must act quickly if we are to bring them together.”

Soonyoung nods. “Minghao is inside the library speaking with Junhui. I asked Jun to leave him there while you convince him to go in. Tell him there is some rare artwork. I know Mingyu is partial to it.”

Seokmin breaks into a grin. “You are quite devious, aren’t you?”

“Am I? You are the second person to tell me that today.” Before he can muse on it any further he sees Mingyu moving, a wine glass in his hand. “Oh, look, now. I will hurry inside and ensure Minghao is where he is supposed to be.”

“We will be there shortly.”

Soonyoung strides into the house, gliding down the long hallways until he reaches the staircase. Taking the stairs in twos, he turns the corner and heads towards the double doors of fine carved oak, and nudges them open, ducking his head inside. The room is so gloomy he can hardly see, peering into the darkness, but he spots a candle flickering between the shelves and he smiles.

Voices sound behind him and he darts into an alcove tucked in between the window and the wall, sheltered by the darkness. Seokmin’s head appears at the top of the stairs. “… know how much you are interested in rare collections and Wonwoo is supposed to have one of the finest. He thought you might be interested.”

“Oh? I have seen Wonwoo’s collection before,” Mingyu replies.

“Ah, well! He has acquired new pieces.”

“Indeed. Why the library though?”

“He said that he put some of the paintings in there. It adds to the atmosphere, you see.” Seokmin pulls open the door and gestures, Mingyu passing through. Then he ducks back out, looking around himself until he catches Soonyoung waving him over.

“Seokmin, where did you – oh, Minghao. I did not expect to find you here.”

Minghao’s reply is too muffled for Soonyoung to pick out, no matter how hard he strains his ears.

“Do you truly think this will work?” Seokmin murmurs, leaning over his shoulder. Tucked as they are into the small alcove, they’re so close that his body heat radiates into Soonyoung who shivers in response, heart thumping so loudly he is sure Seokmin must hear it.

“I am most certain of it. They are both much too suited to let each other go.”

Soonyoung tiptoes closer to the door, attempting to hear the murmured voices within the library.

“Soonyoung!” Seokmin hisses in shock, looking around himself before taking tentative steps after him. “Perhaps we ought to leave them to it –”

“I want to hear what they’re saying.” He presses his ear to the door but he still can’t determine more than a few words that together make little sense. At least they do not appear to be angry with one another.

“I am quite certain this is not gentlemanly behaviour.” Seokmin’s breath ghosts his ear, Soonyoung turning.

Only a thin stream of moonlight cuts across Seokmin’s features, his eyes shining silver as he stares into Soonyoung’s own. His breath catches in his throat, subconsciously tipping onto the balls of his feet as he leans into Seokmin’s warmth. If his heart was beating loudly before it is a thundering drum now, his cheeks flooding with heat. There is something so soft in Seokmin’s gaze that it makes him melt into him, his traitorous thoughts swirling with questions like what it might feel like if he crosses the sliver of space between them and presses his lips to Seokmin’s. Would he welcome such a move, or would it disgust him? He wishes to know.

“Soonyoung –”

The door opens so suddenly that Soonyoung is unprepared, teetering as he overbalances and then topples to the floor with a yelp. He groans from the floor, blinking up into Minghao’s narrowed eyes and summoning a weak grin as he rubs at his throbbing skull.

“Soonyoung, are you alright?” Seokmin gasps.

“Just what were the pair of you up to out here?” says Mingyu, looking between them with a knowing smile as Seokmin helps Soonyoung to his feet with a gentle hand supporting his lower back. “Is the party really so boring?”

“Yes,” Minghao says sharply, “just what were the two of you doing alone in the dark, unchaperoned?” His gaze is fixed on Soonyoung’s with warning.

“I, uh…” He rubs at his head, gaze on the floor.

“We were just discussing how fine the house was!” Seokmin stammers out. “Soonyoung was showing me around since he is familiar with it.”

“And you could not ask Wonwoo to give you a tour?” Mingyu says, brows rising higher. He’s enjoying himself, Soonyoung can tell.

“Well, I think this ends the tour, Seokmin,” Soonyoung says with a forced cheer. “I’m going to return to the garden before there are no songpyeon left. Good evening!”

With that he bolts back down the stairs and escapes out to the gardens before anyone can stop him, the back of his hand pressed to his flaming cheeks. Outside the air is cool, fresh, and it soothes him a little. Oh, but every time he is near Seokmin he finds himself getting quite carried away in a way that is not at all becoming for a gentleman. If his mother could see him cavorting around with an unmarried man she would have a fit. It is a good thing she remains out in the country where she is untouched by city gossip.

“There you are,” says Wonwoo. “Where have you been?”

“Nowhere!”

Wonwoo rakes his gaze over him, mouth curling. “I did warn you not to mess with people’s hearts, did I not?”

“You did,” he agrees, accepting the proffered wine and gulping it down.

Yes, Wonwoo certainly did warn him about playing with hearts. Only, Soonyoung hadn’t realised that the heart he has been messing with is his own.

*

Minghao drops his newspaper down on the table with a sigh. “If I agree to stay will you stop flapping around?”

Soonyoung stops in the middle of the floor and whirls. “You mean it?” he exclaims. “You have agreed to stay?”

Minghao looks away, shoulders hunched. “Well, it’s not like I really wanted to go anyway. My life is here now. Besides, I dread to imagine the kind of trouble you would rustle up if left to your own devices. Someone has to be here to keep an eye on you and better me than your poor mother.”

Soonyoung drops down on the chaise longue right next to Minghao. “Is this because of Mingyu? Did you speak at Junhui’s party? Oh, what did he say? Are you friends once more?”

“I knew you were meddling that night.”

“I wasn’t!” At Minghao’s narrowed eyes he lets out a nervous laugh. “Ah, I just want to see you happy, Hao. That’s not so wrong, is it?”

“It is not for you to decide. And I do not need to be married in order to be happy, do I?”

“Married?”

“Please stop bleating,” he says, turning back to his paper.

“Minghao! Minghao, don’t leave it at that? What did you mean? Did Mingyu propose again? Have you agreed to marry him this time?”

“We did nothing of the sort.”

“But –”

“We have agreed that we shall… see one another for the time being. We are both young, Soonyoung. There is no need to rush into marriage.”

Soonyoung gaps, clutching his chest. His stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of it. Minghao might pretend to loathe romance but Soonyoung knows him to be the sort to devour one novel after another deep into the night, many featuring brooding heroes and sharp-tongued ladies and tempestuous affairs that would set even a stone cold heart aflutter. He knows his cousin; this is a significant development.

“Oh, I shall have to start looking out an outfit now. Will you marry in the winter, Minghao? Just think how fetching you will look against the snow!”

Minghao whacks him over the head with a rolled up newspaper. “Stop getting carried away with such fanciful notions!”

“Why ever not? It’s so exciting! I do not know how you can just sit there when such a handsome man has revealed his heart to you.” Soonyoung sighs. “I could only dream of such a thing.”

Levelling him with a look, Minghao tilts his head. “What, you think you don’t turn heads everywhere you go?”

“Not like you I do not.”

“Soonyoung, you have never seen the way a room falls under your spell when you dance.”

Soonyoung remains silent in disbelief.

“Anyway, I do not understand why you must sit around and wait for some suitor to call on you. Does it truly matter which way around it comes, if you care for someone enough?”

“But I could never!” Soonyoung gasps. He lowers his voice, pitching forward. “You know what they say about me. I was born to a mother of low standing and now my father is in ruin thanks to his gambling debt. Why, I do not know why my uncle wished to send you to stay with us at all, we have fallen so far in repute.”

Minghao snorts. “As if any of that matters.” He leans back with a sigh, shaking his head. “Propriety this, propriety that. It is so very wearisome. Would that people would say what they mean and mean what they say.”

“It is just not the way of things.”

“Hm. Well, it is stupid.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Yes, I think you’re probably right.”

“I am always right.”

“Always? Even when you thought bulgogi was a type of parcel?”

Minghao narrows his eyes. “Alright, do not propose to get smart with me.”

Soonyoung laughs.

*

“Have you heard the rumours?”

Soonyoung does not really mean to overhear, pausing as he pretends to admire a hat, but he cannot help but listen in to the two ladies in the shop giggling between one another as they examine silk ribbons. The one with dark hair whispers, “I heard they have been engaged since last week. What a prosperous match, Captain Seokmin and the Jung heir! My, the wealth they must hold combined.”

“Oh, but what a disappointment! Two such eligible bachelors both off the market?”

“You didn’t seriously think you had a chance, did you?” her companion says and they both laugh again, trailing further into the shop.

Soonyoung lets out a sigh, shaking his head.

“What’s the matter with you?” says Junhui as he emerges from the back of the shop.

“Nothing!” he says quickly, earning himself a raised brow. “Nothing, let us go now!”

*

In the summer it is common to summon large gatherings for bold displays of fireworks. The grander the display, the greater one’s standing in society rises, and so more and more extravagant festivities are held each year in a bid to outdo one’s peers and become the talk of the ton. Soonyoung enjoys this time of year, when the night air is balmy and laced with the fragrant scents from the flowers that decorate the city’s gardens, the parties calmer than those held within the chandelier lit halls of the manors.

On this particular night he wears a hanbok of a deep midnight blue, the jeogari decorated with red embroidery, and loose baji beneath which help to keep him cool in the summer humidity. There’s not much of a breeze and many carry folded or uchiwa fans to ward off the worst of the heat. Fireflies float through the sky, providing bright beads of light against the black of night. Torches have been lit around the garden, the fire stretching up into the sky and casting a warm light across the impressive expanse of Jeonghan’s garden.

“Jeonghan always throws the best parties, do you not think?” Soonyoung says, desperately fanning himself and sighing at the pitiful puffs of air. “I cannot wait to see the display tonight.”

Minghao makes a small noise of affirmation but his eyes are fixed upon the milling crowds, searching. Soonyoung smiles, no doubt in his mind about who his cousin searches for. For all that he pretends to be distant, there is no denying how he has taken to the dashing naval captain. He sips his rice wine, pulling his thoughts back before he can think of another captain. One who very much does not belong to him.

Soonyoung stands on his tiptoes, peering through the crowd. A tall, dark head catches his eye and he elbows Minghao, pointing. “Look, look, over there,” he says. “He’s talking to – _oh._ ”

The man talking amiably with Mingyu is as familiar as he is handsome, with dimples in his cheeks and rich copper hair burnished by flame. Jung Jaehyun, grinning as he rests a hand on Mingyu’s arm. The pair share a laugh and Soonyoung’s stomach churns even though Seokmin is nowhere to be seen. All he can think about is whether Seokmin had been the first to propose, or whether he had been shocked and then delighted when Jaehyun asked for his hand. Soonyoung is not a man prone to envy but in this moment he desperately wishes he were of an equal standing to Jaehyun. Perhaps then he could make the first move and not feel burdened by the shame that rests on his family name thanks to his father.

“What is it?” Minghao says, gaze flicking between them. He arches a brow. “Is it Jaehyun? I thought you said you weren’t upset about the engagement?”

“I’m not,” he says too forcefully.

“So I see.”

Soonyoung grips his arm and steers him in the other direction, towards where Seungkwan lingers with Joshua and Jihoon. “Good evening, gentleman,” he says. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“It is supposed to be more spectacular than any other that has come before it,” Seungkwan exclaims, eyes lighting up. “Jeonghan has really talked it up this time so I hope it can live up to expectations.”

Joshua smiles into his wine. “He got himself so worked up organising it. I am quite glad it will finally be over with tonight.”

While Jihoon and Minghao break off to hold a separate discussion, Soonyoung spends the next while engaging Seungkwan and Joshua in conversation about everything, from the weather, to the latest fashions, to the current gossip making its way through the ton. Seungkwan is sly as he leans forward to whisper secrets into Soonyoung’s ear loud enough for those next to them to glance their way with curious looks and Joshua laughs, shaking his head at the pair of them.

“But nothing has been quite as exciting as the most recent news,” Seungkwan says, jerking his chin. Soonyoung follows his gaze and feels his stomach sink as he watches Seokmin greet Jaehyun with a gleaming smile, the pair clasping hands in greeting, and it’s at that moment an explosion of light bursts across the midnight sky. Gold and green and red shimmer in a fan of sparkling light before fading out against black, sweet smoke lingering in the air. Soonyoung swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Has it actually been confirmed?” Joshua muses. “I have only heard it from Jeonghan, who heard it from Minhyuk, who in turn heard it from Hoseok.”

“I mean look at them,” says Seungkwan. “It’s rather obvious, is it not?”

Joshua bobs his head in acknowledgement and Soonyoung keeps his eyes fixed on the sky, telling himself that it is the lingering smoke that stings his eyes. But he forces himself to loosen his shoulders and smile, for it is far too beautiful a night to be lost to moroseness. Not when the air is filled with gasps at every bang and crash of splintering colours, pointing to the glittering sky. Here he stands, surrounded by friends whom are very dear to him, his stomach warmed by rice wine and the summer heat. There is much to celebrate, no matter how heavy his heart wants to be.

So he ignores the way Seungkwan and Joshua share a glance, whispering to one another behind their hands, before a weight lands on his shoulder and makes him yelp.

“Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung whirls, a hand over his heart, and his mouth drops open at Seokmin standing there in his dark maroon hanbok, gold and silver light dancing across his face as the fireworks glitter behind them. “Good-good evening,” he manages. “It is a splendid affair tonight.”

“Indeed,” says Seokmin, gaze roaming his face. If Soonyoung didn’t know any better he would say he looks nervous. “You are enjoying the festivities?”

“Mm.” The prickling sensation of Seungkwan and Joshua observing them makes his skin itch, and emboldened by the wine, he takes Seokmin's arm and guides him away from the crowd, towards the trees that line the back of the gardens, a delicate stone wall on either side. Dragging his eyes across Seokmin’s face, he forces himself to meet his eyes. “I suppose I should congratulate you on your engagement. You must be thrilled to be matched to such a reputable partner.”

Seokmin’s brow furrows, cocking his head. “Engagement? What do you mean?”

Soonyoung’s heart skips a beat. He barely notices the fireworks anymore, his field of vision stripped down to their small patch of garden. “Your engagement to Jung Jaehyun.” He licks his lips, reading the confusion on Seokmin’s face. “Am I… wrong?”

“You thought I was to be married to Jaehyun?” Seokmin shakes his head. “No, no!” He laughs, rubbing his neck. “Jaehyun and I have become friends through Mingyu but he… no, he is currently being courted by a foreign diplomat. I do not think he has eyes for someone like me.”

“Someone like you,” he repeats. “Who would not wish to be engaged to you?”

It takes him a moment to realise what he has just said, raising a hand to his mouth in horror. He stares up at Seokmin’s wide eyes, sees the bursts of red and gold reflected in their lustre, and promptly loses his breath. It feels like everything is spinning and he wants to apologise, or say something to smooth things over, but he can’t seem to find any words. To think the great Kwon Soonyoung has been rendered speechless. He is sure Jihoon would have some choice words to say about that.

“Soonyoung,” Seokmin says gently, “you do not need to say such things to make me feel better. I am not upset. I am not looking for anything deeper than friendship from Jaehyun.”

Maybe it’s the fireworks lighting up the sky around them. Maybe it’s the bright, jovial atmosphere brought on by the height of summer. Maybe it’s the way he feels secure in their small bubble away from the crowd, sheltered in the dream-like quality of the night; but it makes him bold. Minghao’s words strike him in that moment. _Does it truly matter which way around it comes, if you care for someone enough?_ There’s a truth in there, somewhere. Fortune favours the bold.

“Is there someone you might have set your heart upon?” he says, pressing closer, Seokmin’s breath hitching. “Do you think you might accept a proposal from another, perhaps?”

Seokmin’s eyes are round, searching his face. With his heart skipping a beat, Soonyoung takes his hands. “The truth is, Lee Seokmin, that as soon as I saw you again at Jeonghan’s ball I realised how much I had missed my childhood friend. Now I find these feelings have significantly grown.” He pauses, licks his dry lips, and feels a thrill shoot down his spine when Seokmin follows the movement. “I find myself searching for you in every room and thinking of you when we are apart, wondering what occupies you when I am not there. I had thought it a hopeless case – that you were taken with Jaehyun –”

“No,” Seokmin chokes out, hands squeezing. “Not at all.”

Soonyoung’s stomach flutters, losing his words for a moment. “I…” He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to say. Why he cannot just grit it out. It’s the thought of losing Seokmin forever, even just as a friend. Yet he knows he must do this now or live with this regret for the rest of his life as he watches Seokmin fall for and marry another. The very thought twists his stomach.

“Seokmin –”

“Soonyoung –”

They both pause, laughter high-pitched and strained. Soonyoung takes Seokmin in, flushed and glowing in the exploding sparks of the fireworks lighting up the night sky, hands warm and sure in his, and thinks that surely he will not be disgusted by what he says.

“Seokmin,” he says, “I must confess that I have completely and irrevocably fallen for you. I say this not with expectation but with –”

“Soonyoung, Soonyoung,” Seokmin gasps, hands moving to cradle his face with a delicacy that leaves him breathless. “Soonyoung, marry me.”

He hitches a breath.

“I mean, please will you marry me? Oh!” One of his hands pulls back, spreading across his own face. “Oh, I have done this all wrong. I had hoped to make it romantic but I have surely ruined it now.”

Only Soonyoung is wide-eyed and speechless but not because he is disappointed like Seokmin seems to think. He can scarcely believe it! Seokmin proposing? Never in his wildest dreams could he have expected such a thing, his thoughts taking another few moments to catch up with the spinning, dizzying, maddening impossibility of it.

“Yes!” he cries, startling Seokmin. “Yes, why yes! I will marry you, Seokmin.” He breathes these lasts words into Seokmin’s mouth as they come together, both clutching at one another’s faces. When they kiss it is soft and sweet, the fireworks blooming around them with a bang-bang- _bang_ that vibrates beneath his skin, the smell of smoke lingering in the air. Seokmin’s lips are gentle and warm, his thumb skimming across Soonyoung’s jaw and making goosebumps race across his skin.

When they pull apart Seokmin’s eyes are still closed, black lashes trailing golden skin, and Soonyoung feels like champagne fizzling inside the bottle, just about to pop. Seokmin's eyes open slowly as if in a haze, the smile spreading across his face in increments until he is levelling Soonyoung with his blinding grin. Bold with the giddiness, Soonyoung presses another peck to his lips and then another, laughter bubbling up from his chest. Seokmin’s hand lands on the back of his neck and reels him in, and beneath the relative shelter of the trees they kiss to the sounds of summer until the festivities wind down and force them to part ways for the night.

This time when Soonyoung says his goodbyes to Seokmin he does not need to fear it is for the last time, for he has tucked the promise of Seokmin asking for his hand under his ribcage, warm and glowing.

“Someone looks happy,” Junhui comments with a knowing smile, eyes glittering.

“Junhui,” he shouts out, the words bursting from his chest, “I am to be married!”

Again and again, to any who will hear him. “I said yes! We are going to get married!”

*

Soonyoung marries Seokmin in the winter, when a thick carpet of white snow covers the city streets and the air is crisp and cool. Surrounded by all their friends he says his vows, seeing not just the man he is to marry smiling back at him from across the alter, but his best friend, and he thinks to himself that he must truly be the luckiest man in the world to call Lee Seokmin his husband.

**Author's Note:**

> So I had the biggest chunk of this written months ago but I just ran out of steam and couldn't figure out how to finish it, but having poured so much into this fic I wasn't willing to just abandon it so I persevered. It's a bit weird since it was Austen inspired but isn't set in England or South Korea, so much as it's a fantasy place with elements of both. I also attempted an old timey writing style for this one but I'm not sure how people will find it.
> 
> Anyways, as uncertain as I am about the finished product here I am throwing it up anyway. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!


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